Why can't I just take Shanalotte on adventures with me?
by Gensh
Summary: Flung into the distant future, the victorious Chosen Undead searches for a way back in time in order to prevent this awful sequel from occurring in the first place. Follows "Take the Ring."
1. Caught up in circles

Half-forgotten memories in the rain. A mother and child. An old woman with a spinning wheel.

"… _none will have meaning, and you won't even care…_ "

A decayed archway at the far end of an endless lake. Bones of the fallen. Innumerable fireflies.

"…y _ou will stand before its decrepit gate without really knowing why…_ "

The gate is long fallen, but in the liquid mirror, the doors wrench open. A host of haggard spirits rush outward beneath the paleblood moon. Beyond is only a vortex of yet more of the suffering wraiths, their individuality lost in the maelstrom.

"…t _ime after time…_ "

An absentminded step forward and a plunge into the storm. Then, unexpectedly, peace and warmth. Sleep. Awakening is an eternity later. The hooded man finds himself sprawled on a cold stone altar, a faint ray of light drawing him to consciousness.

"If you fall, I will catch you – I will be waiting. Time after time."

The comfort of 80s pop hits nearly put him to sleep again. Fortunately, the broken stone left a crick in his neck. He felt around blindly in search of his bed.

"Laaaaaaaaaag. Your fat ass booty-bumped me off the bed again. Laag? Quelaag? Quesadilla? Lincoln Log? Special K?"

The man rose, stretching without opening his eyes.

"Geez, if she was going to wake up early, the least she could have done was put me back-"

This was definitely not the royal bedroom.

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

Well, maybe he was. Drangleic was _probably_ not Lordran, but the jury was still out. The realization was slowly setting in, so he hurried along before he could think about it. At the top of the hill ahead was a bridge over a waterfall. Across that bridge was a cozy little cabin.

The experienced hero dashed straight to it with hardly a pause, his sudden arrival having had no ill effect on his stamina. The door flew open, and he stomped into the flickering light of the fireplace, panting. There were three old women in scarlet robes seated around a square table, while a younger woman (clearly the maidservant by her worn robe), descended the spiral stairs. One of the old ones chuckled.

"What seems to be the ruckus?" she teased. "Ooh, my! Your- wait. That is not the face of the Curse."

Of the countless Undead who had passed through that door, all were burdened by their fate. Some bore it physically, in their rotting flesh. For others, it was a spiritual burden that manifested only in their tired eyes. This man's flesh was fresh as a live human's, and his spirit seemed unburdened. The old women were speechless and looked amongst each other for answers.

"You'll go hollow," the first said at last.

"I can't," he said, and they winced at the strength of his soul.

They were the last of the Fire Keepers. They alone retained the power to see the flickering sparks in the souls of their own kind. They had seen powerful souls pass through before, though this man's was truly enormous. Such did not frighten them. The horror was that this flame was altogether filled with the undying madness of Chaos.

There had been heroes in the past who slew the Great Ones. Even the Great Chaos could be bested and its power taken. Yet those heroes only _held_ that wicked power. This man _was_ the power. The women chuckled nervously.

"What is your name?" their leader asked.

"I am Lord Lexaeus of Life. Consort-King of Chaos. Prophet of the Perfect Prince of Pleasure. I was the Undead Chosen by the gods who ended the Curse several monarchs prior. It should have been for good, unless the Keeper decided to play hooky."

The old women struggled. They were so used to mocking the travelers that passed through that they hardly had anything to say to one so thoroughly self-possessed. Even if he did introduce himself like a jackass.

"It may not be of much use to such an _illustrious_ traveler," the leader said at last as she fumbled through her pockets, "but take this."

She held up a wicker orb with a smaller one budding off of it. All the strands converged on a single point, where the Darksign would be on a human.

"It's a human effigy," the woman said cautiously. "I suppose you know who it's supposed to be."

"Yes, of course. The self. But I do have a question. What of those who don't recognize it?"

"Those are the wretches too far gone to remember."

"What? But L- the Undead I need to save is one of the more sane ones, even after losing most of her memory."

"Keeping her reason means nothing. Her light will soon sputter and die."

The Undead grimaced beneath his mask. Noticing at last his worn traveler's attire, he stripped to find familiar armor beneath. The cuirass was an asymmetrical coat of jingling brass scales. His extremities were more lightly armored to maintain his mobility, and there was no helm to cover his seemingly-windswept mane of black hair. From his back hung a massive dao studded with seven brass rings, a braid of reddish-brown hair hanging from its pommel.

With the covering gone, every movement caused the various moving parts to jingle pleasantly. The man smirked and stretched to awaken himself.

"Then I'll just have to kickstart her heart. My youngest sister-in-law restored me after I went completely hollow, you know? Thanks for the advice, anyway."

With that, he headed out the back door before they could think of a response. Slightly off the path was an extinguished bonfire, its ritual sword cold and leaden. He held out two fingers and cocked his thumb.

"Bang!"

The bones and ash about the blade crackled, and a dim flame rose. Satisfied, he stuck out the thumb and pinky of his other hand and held it to his head like a telephone, his enchanted wedding band glittering like blood in the firelight.

"Hey, spidey-bridey, you'll never guess where I woke up."

The only sound was the hum of the mystic fire.

"Quelaag?"

He huddled closer to the fire, as if that would strengthen the connection.

"Laav, I can't get hold of Laag, could you-?"

There had always been a faint sensation when using the rings of communication – a replacement for what would have been a status icon in-game. He hadn't felt it since he woke up. He had tried to put it out of mind until he reached a bonfire. Here, among the Things Betwixt, he would surely be able to contact distant Lordran. Time travel hadn't been an issue in reaching the lost kingdom of Oolacile.

"Quelaag, if this is a joke…"

There it was. The fear that had been lurking at the back of his mind. There was no telling how long he spent adventuring in Lordran while the sun hung frozen in the sky, but it had been many months since then. Throughout that time, no one had discovered how he had been brought to Lordran… or how to return home.

"Quelaag…?"

He stiffened and forced himself to his feet. His wife would tie him to the ceiling if he started whining instead of doing something. This wasn't like Lordran, where the most "intelligent" speaking character was the man who invented a really big soul laser. He knew who he would need to find. He reached for his sword, the familiar grip reassuring him.

The Chosen Undead, champion of many battles, had no need for the tutorial areas branching out from the road ahead. Still, he rushed through the first one in order to kick down the ladder leading to the item-trading crow hatchlings. That chore behind him, he continued up the crevasse until it opened up into the blinding light of dusk. Over the cliffside before him, the orange-red sun seared the featureless ocean and rocky, parched earth. The path turned from the light yet continued toward it nevertheless.

In moments, he had arrived at the abandoned town. The roofs of most of the buildings had fallen in, but a monument to the fallen stood proudly atop the jutting edge of the cliff. Two downtrodden men could be seen – one seated upon the foot of the monument and the other backed against the wall of one of the buildings. Facing the sea to the north but looking only at the dirt, a woman in green robes stood alone on the crumbling cliffside beneath the sole lit bonfire in fallen Drangleic.

"Are you…" she said without turning, "…the next Monarch? …or merely a pawn of fate?"

"I know you lead Undead here. But did you summon _me_ in particular?"

She turned her body, looking from under her hood without facing him.

"Bearer of the Curse, I guide those who seek the kingdom. If you are here, it is by your own wish."

"It is not. And it is not the first time I have been called like this."

The Chosen Undead, now Bearer of the Curse, clenched his fist.

"Your soul is stronger than most. I pray it does not burden you. Bearer of the Curse, seek the King. I will remain by your side, 'til this frail-"

"No."

"It is the only way."

"It's not. This wasn't supposed to happen, Shanalotte."

She gasped sharply and fully turned to look at him. She was a pale, miserable girl. Long brown hair hung over the right side of her face. Her one brown eye couldn't bear to meet his violet ones, the Flame of Chaos writhing within.

"Something is wrong. I stopped this history from occurring. I broke the cycle before it could begin. Shanalotte, I will show you the path of the True Monarch. In exchange, you must tell me everything you know of your creator."

"Who are you, that you know such things?" she asked cautiously.

"I am Lex, the Prophet of Slaanesh. I have foreseen these events. The one who possesses the four crowns will escape the cycle alone. But I am already free by my own will. I will entrust them to you, if you will help me return whence I came."

Though the knowledge of her past surprised her, the young woman was thoroughly jaded.

"You speak grandly, but so did the ones who created me. Bearer of the Curse, seek the King. The knowledge you desire is as much his past as it is mine."

"The so-called Scholar of the First Sin, Vendrick's brother Aldia. Though perhaps there is more than one individual bound up in that crafted body of his. I know where to find him. The problem is that he's a runner. I need to be able to pin him down."

This at last elicited a reaction. The woman's face became subtly taut.

"I thought he had passed."

"He may no longer have a soul. I've seen him 'die.' He reappeared shortly after. He's worse than the original Duke about godmoding. But there's a thought – I can use one against the other."

The dialog was going nowhere. He crossed around the bonfire and held out a hand.

"Give me the Flask. I'll be back in a bit. As it stands, I'm completely overpowered for New Game. The opening act isn't going to be much more than a speed bump."

She nodded hesitantly, drawing the tiny, cracked green glass from her belt and handing it to the Undead. The Bearer of the Curse this time was all-too-demanding but still not the worst she'd seen in her eternal vigil. Not by far. As he turned to leave, he held one hand up in a terse wave.

"Oh, right," he said absentmindedly, stopping and looking over his shoulder.

"It's been bandied about that you're an unexpected fifth Queen. Just so you know, I won't hold it against you if you are. But I _am_ already married. You can be beautiful and terrible as the dawn, treacherous as the sea, stronger than the foundations of the earth, but my demon queen and I are tighter than MaoYuu. I don't even need to rely on your level-up service, so you have no hold over me."

She stared at him, unblinking.

"Not that I particularly mistrust you. My enemies have been surprisingly straightforward, aside from concealing minor (if vital) details. Anyway, I'LL BE BACK once I've beaten the Pursuinator."

With that, he headed east along the cliffside, descending into a tunnel with bricked walls. As he walked, he fingered his wedding band uneasily.

"Come on, Laag. Whatever Aku, THE SHAPESHIFTING MASTER OF DARKNESS, may have done to fling me into the future WHERE HIS EVIL IS LAW, there had to have been some trace left behind. How did the world end up going to Drangleic again?"


	2. Seriously, Targray, people are dying

As the Chosen Undead, Lex had been the first line of defense for the restored Lordran. He had led the extermination of any remaining monsters, and he was the first to respond to any overly-aggressive "Chosen Undead" who arrived too late. As such, he had an abundance of souls and could immediately buy enough to convince the merchant hag to move to Majula. Mind, he didn't plan on murdering anyone, so her services were likely unnecessary. That done, he unlocked the smithy for Lenigrast, who was just a little too portly to climb over the crumbling walls and informed the wayward cartographer Cale that his map would soon be finished.

One of redundantly-named Pursuers fell to pieces at his feet, lightning crackling from its cursed armor. That left only one thing to do in the first runthrough of the Forest, and he was quite looking forward to it.

"Hello there. Traveling all alone in these treacherous times?"

Few things were left in Drangleic to remind one of Lordran, yet here was a man wearing the starting warrior armor. He sat on some mildewed sandbags, looking quite perplexed.

"Actually," Lex said, "I'm looking for a means of contacting my wife. I rolled over in bed and found myself here rather unexpectedly."

"You poor soul. The Curse must have come upon you suddenly."

"No, I had it before we were married. Funny thing, in the end, it helped me in wooing her. Mainly since killed me on our first meeting."

The other man sat up straight and chuckled faintly.

"Well, she certainly sounds spirited. My name is Pate, friend. How about yourself?"

"I'm Lex. Prophet of Slaanesh and King-Consort of Izalith. Not that it exists anymore. See, it's more like I rolled over and found myself in a post-apocalyptic future. Both I and my god are disappointed in the lack of flamethrower guitars."

Pate quirked an eyebrow but said nothing about all the strangeness or claim of being royalty.

"You still believe you can find your wife?"

"It's not a matter of finding her. One time, I got sent to the _past_ , and we were still able to communicate with magic. I just need to find out why it doesn't work now."

"Fair enough!" Pate said, chuckling again. "Just keep yourself safe, friend. The land is full of dangers."

He jerked his thumb toward an archway.

"There's treasure in there for certain, but the entrance locks from behind. I saw the same design earlier, and it's the same contraption, I'm sure. I was with this warrior, you see, and he insisted that he go inside first. The rather brusque fellow tried to swipe the loot for himself, but it trapped him inside.

I still have the gent's ring. I do hope he wasn't harmed."

Lex nodded.

"My power of prophecy had informed me as much. I think you have more to worry about. I mentioned that I lived long ago? I knew your ancestor, I'm certain. Trusty Patches, the traveling merchant."

"I'm afraid my family has fallen on hard times. I can't say I know any of my forebears."

"Funny thing is that he's probably still alive. All the vitality of a bug. It'll come back to bite him eventually – he ends up getting turned into a dog-sized spider by a mad god."

"Well," Pate said slowly, at loss for words, "I'll keep that in mind."

"BRB. I'll go set off the trap, and then we can go finish off the giant beneath the tower."

The treasure hunter was awed by the utter implacability of the Prophet King. The man didn't flinch as the hollows rushed him. His massive dao flashed through the leathery flesh with speed that shouldn't have been possible for such a heavy weapon. Hardly a minute had passed before the cleric hopped down from the wall above. Pate had left his summon sign by the boss room in order to farm souls, but now he unwittingly followed the frighteningly powerful Undead.

In the depths of the tower, the Last Giant lay among the ruins of the fort. It was bound by shackles, impaled by swords and stalagmites, and covered in rubble. Yet when the pair passed through the fog, it groaned in rage and wrenched its tattered body free.

"I'm still not convinced," Lex said quietly to himself. "Hey! Are you the Giant Lord? Did we fight in my future and your past? What's with that giant-ass sword in your back? This is the grave of Artorias all over again!"

The creature howled and charged at the pair. They leapt to either side, and Pate counterattacked, swiping his spear at its ankles. Lex grabbed hold of one of the arms and used the momentum of his dodge to swing up onto its back.

"Hey, I was talking! Let's set aside the two of us for now. Do you recognize the name Hawkeye Gough?"

Unfortunately, the creature was too furious to respond and instead bucked violently.

"Nice try! I could ride mechanical bulls so well I won a gym membership once!"

It didn't like the tone of his voice, so it quickly changed tactics. The prophet jumped away just before it smashed its back against the cave wall. In a blind fury, it ripped off its left arm and wielded the stony limb like a club.

"Not cool, bro! What if an alien spider god saw that and repeated it because it thought that's what all the cool bosses did? You need a -Don't try this at home- disclaimer!"

The taunts were more than that, though. As he mocked it, he slid his palm along his dao's rune-etched blade. Glowing blood flowed into the markings as the demon titanite fed on his magic. Chaos flame flowed over the steel, but when it reached the holy rings on the back, they sparked and fumed. They chimed with divine power, and the flame shuddered before becoming a gleaming, shrieking haze.

The enchantment of nauseating whorls and keening had no issue cutting through the half-petrified body of the giant until at last, it could take no more. It collapsed with a terrible groan and erupted into souls. Lex left Pate to puzzle out his strange fate and cast Homeward before using the bonfire to warp back to Majula.

"Bearer of the Curse-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it."

He headed in the opposite direction now, passing through a different set of tunnels to reach Heide's Tower of Flame and its inexplicably Egyptian statues. The Tower's guardians were hardly a threat when compared to those of Anor Londo. Nor was the hollowed Dragonrider in the Tower itself. At its top, he met a middle-aged priestess kneeling in prayer.

"Are you from these parts?"

Lex looked down at his armor, cannibalized from several different sets and heavily modified.

"Are you high?"

"No need to be rude."

"Look, I know you're part of some assassin cult. If you cared at all about the gods, you'd go see the Dragonslayer in the Cathedral over there. Just give me the rotunda lockstone. I'll pay you for it."

A dark look came over the woman's face.

"Curses… puzzled me out, have you?"

"Lady, I don't know if you change your face with magic or if the assassin is your subordinate, but wearing the same outfit is so stupid I don't have words for it."

The priestess leapt backward, raising a chime to invoke a miracle. She didn't count on Lex's ring-driven speed. He hauled off and smashed the flat of the blade into the side of her head. As she tried to stagger to her feet, he flicked his wrist. At the edge of his bracer, his skin split open, and Chaos vines burst out.

The tendrils writhed with a mind of their own and quickly bound her so that she could neither cast nor flee. With a grunt, the Chaos Lord cut the trailing vines from his wrist and hefted his captive onto his shoulder.

"What do you plan on doing with me? I won't talk! The things they'd do to me are worse than anything you could conceive!"

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to hand you over to the Sentinels, because they're the closest thing to a law enforcement agency here. Isn't it great? You get to hang out with the champions of the gods!"

To compensate for the extra weight, Lex set aside his sword and fought through the other path with the might of spells alone. He dragged his prisoner through the fog but was forced to throw her aside as the spear-wielding knight beyond lunged at him.

"Yo!" he said as he hopped aside. "So! The million-dollar question is… are you the real Ornstein?"

The jet and sliver armor clanked as its motion came to an abrupt stop.

"Who are you to know that sacred name?"

The voice was strong and proud, but it was not the Lion's.

"Long ago, the Dragonslayer waited in the Great Lord's keep to test the Chosen Undead, to see if a human was worthy to succeed the Lord of Sunlight. There were many Chosen. I was the one to succeed. And now I find myself ages removed from that time."

"My order has long kept legends of events not unlike what you describe. Yet you may a mere treasure hunter who has learned of such by despoiling some tomb. Come, if you claim to have defeated our lord."

The knight hurtled into the air, unleashing a torrent of Dark orbs. Lex drew his sword and shook it so that the rings chimed. Lightning ran along the length of the blade, and he ducked forward and away from the blasts. The Dragonslayer charged again, but Lex deflected the speartip, smashing the flat of the blade into the crossbar. He bounced, spinning around to swat the spear away.

Whatever this knight had done to become an Ornstein impostor, he had earned the title. Before Lex could land a hit, the Dragonslayer faded with the motion of his spear, then spun about, using the cross to sweep the prophet to the ground. Lex quickly rolled under a hammering thrust and hopped to his feet. He feinted a slash, but as the weapon was batted away by the spear's haft, he punched the Dragonslayer in the gut with his free hand. As bare knuckles struck solid steel, there was a bass boom, and the knight was propelled through a column and across the room.

Lex shook his hand as the Life Soul rebuilt his shattered fingers but charged straight ahead. However, that was the end of it. The sonic attack had ruined the Dragonslayer's sense of balance. Dizzy and struggling to stand, he ate a resounding blow from the holy dao. Pinned against the wall of the cathedral with the blade to his throat, he had no choice but surrender.

"I am bested. I will perish as my lord before me."

"Who said I killed him? I actually entered the room as _someone else_ was going to kill him. And then a friend of mine threw that guy off the top of the building. Last I saw, Ornstein was perfectly fine. He was working on a solution to the 'Lordran is infested with drakes' problem. Of course, Artorias is trying to tame the damn things, so…"

"Impossible! The first of my order was only able to develop replicas of our lord's equipment after his death! He perished honorably, defending his charge!"

Lex winced.

" _Please tell me he's not going to start saying 'aye siwmae' every time we meet from now on._ "

Still, it was food for thought. Legends were notoriously inaccurate, of course, but that it fell in line with the game canon rather than the history he'd experienced was troubling.

"I believe you, but that raises some questions. Let's start with 'why doesn't Targray care about the battle to the death going on behind him?'"

"Please!" Licia scoffed from her position on the floor. "What would you expect from these battle maniacs?"

"Oh, right. Also, I tied up this cultist. I don't know what you want to do with her. Has anyone invented interrogation magic? I mean, Velka or Seath probably had some, but they're dicks."

The Dragonslayer nodded.

"We will speak with the Master Sentinel. One of another order may possess such magics. Master Targray will know."

He paused.

"Forgive me. I am one who has abandoned his name for this mantle. You may call me as you please. May I know the name of he who met the holy Ornstein?"

"Lex. Prophet of Slaanesh and King-Consort of Izalith."

"A prophet, truly? Forgive my prior rudeness. I meant no offense to your lord."

"It's okay, he's fictional anyway."


	3. Unintentional harem route

Since Targray and Ornstein Mk II promised to "take care" of Licia, Lex continued on to the so-called Unseen Path.

"What's with all these flooded underground passageways anyway?"

Despite the complaints, it wasn't long before he'd reached the darkened caverns beneath the mostly-sunken city. Contrary to what the game would have had him believe, a pyromancy flame was more than adequate lighting for non-supernatural darkness, and he quickly made his way along the narrow, winding path to the bonfire. Leaning against a stalagmite was a swordsman in flamboyant fencing attire – right colors, baggy sleeves, and a feathered cap. The man's face was concealed by a bearded silver mask, and his arms were crossed against his chest. Lex approached the bonfire and looked at the man, thinking carefully.

"What is it?" a woman's voice echoed in the silent cave, muffled by the mask. "I don't know you, and you don't know me. Things are better that way."

"Wrong. That attitude doesn't suit you, Lucatiel."

"You-?"

"Me!"

The cleric laughed.

"I am Lex, the Prophet of Slaanesh. Until this land changes in response to my actions, I know all there is to know about the goings-on of Drangleic. You have been deceived by those hags. Mere souls may slow hollowing, but they cannot reverse it. Others may claim ignorance, but those three of all humans should know the truth."

The woman's voice became harsher.

"Disgusting. You flaunt your power and take even that false hope? Are you telling me that this journey is meaningless, that I should lie down and die?"

Lex was taken aback.

"No, I-! I was trying to sound confident, important. If I say things loudly enough, nobody really questions them. I didn't mean to come across like a dick."

"Poorly chosen words are no excuse." She sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice wavered faintly. "I will not be swayed. Whatever aim you had in stopping me, you have failed. I will not hesitate."

As she finished, one hand went to her sword to punctuate.

"That's not- I'm going to stop talking."

The Chosen Undead tilted his head back and exhaled slowly. He stuck a finger and thumb into the back of his throat, gagging slightly as he dragged out a shivering humanity sprite.

"Now," he coughed, "the hags told me that those who can't recognize an effigy are lost. A creepy ghost-thing doesn't take any special effort to recognize."

"What _is_ that?" Lucatiel eked out, holding back her bile.

"Humanity. The Dark Soul. This is the raw essence of our race. The bodies we wear now are artificial, you know? Created by the gods in their image. Humans, in their natural state, are ghastly beasts of the Dark.

We maintain these forms by sacrificing our very essence to the Flame given us by the gods. Doesn't it seem like the curse resembles old age (nevermind the cannibalism)? Consume this sprite, and the Flame in your heart will have more than enough fuel to undo the damage that has already been done. It'll give you a few more years at least. Unless you die, of course. Rebuilding an entire body takes quite a bit of fuel."

"Say I believe you. What ill effects would this… sprite have?"

"Increased willfulness, emotions, et cetera. One won't do you much harm. A hollow with no humanity is an emotionless existence. A devoted saint and a mad killer alike hold a great deal of humanity. As with all power, it is a matter of usage."

Lucatiel stared at the squirming hole in the world, and it stared back.

"I am not sure if I believe everything you say, but I believe you are right. The souls are not sustaining me. I will take this sprite of yours."

At last, she hefted herself off the stalagmite and rounded the bonfire. Lex extended his hand, and she cautiously took the humanity. Her arm shuddered from the cold of it. She breathed deeper and harder, until it could be heard through the mask. At last, she grasped it with all her nervous strength, shattering it.

"What?! Did I-?"

"No, your instincts were right. Check your eye."

Forgetting herself for a moment, she removed the mask and one of her gloves. She gingerly felt the left side of her face. The rotten, leathery skin of a hollow quickly retreated with a wave of cinders, the glassy eye of a mindless hollow turning to a sharp blue.

"It was true. It was true. I'm… human again."

"No. You're still Undead. That can't be taken back. You won't age, but you'll have to forever seek out humanity or else go mad."

"I see. Well, thank you for this much. If… if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call upon me."

"One humanity's not enough, Lucatiel. I have a stockpile, so to speak, but I have a… condition… that causes me to spend it quickly. I no longer have access to the limitless source I did before."

"You gave me-"

"Uh tut tut tut. I have a cheat. It was so depressing watching you slowly hollow when you were so close to discovering it. Come with me."

She hesitated for a moment, a look of shock on her face. At last, she nodded slowly and replaced her mask.

"You will have my sword."

In the main cavern ahead was a hidden smuggler's town. Though originally a home for pirates, as the curse spread, it came to be used for shipping away the cursed. In one of the homes, the prophet knocked over a cupboard, revealing a hidden room. Whoever was hiding there had died somehow, but on the body's shriveled finger was an elaborately-engraved brass ring with a violet stone. For a priest, Lex clearly didn't care about desecrating the dead, removing the ring and giving it to Lucatiel.

"This is the Ring of the Blue Oyster Cult. It's said that the members didn't fear the reaper. Rumors aside, this ring will protect you from the ill effects of the first death while wearing it. It will 'die' in your place. Fortunately, I just unlocked the smithy in Majula, so Lenigrast can fix it every time you die, making you more or less immortal as long as you can cover the repair cost."

"How could such powerful magic exist?!"

"I'm going to be generous and blame an intern."

The statement confused Lucatiel, so she removed her glove and began to put on the ring, only to stop halfway.

"What about you? Why would you give away something so valuable?"

"Ah. That's right. I've gotten too used to hanging around spiritually sensitive people. I have a… unique constitution. In truth, it's possible to keep from hollowing – to keep your Flame burning – with willpower alone. Being a prophet means I have absolute confidence, which means I can't hollow.

Except that one time I freaked out. Only Slaanesh is perfect. I think Oscar or Kirk might be able to pull it off too, but I don't recommend it to just anyone."

Lucatiel's expression couldn't be seen beneath her mask, but her tone was somber.

"I see. Then I'll accept this gift. Please, take this. It is not much."

As she slipped the Ring of Life Protection on one finger, she removed a studded Ring of Steel Protection from another."

Lex tensed. Quietly, he removed the Ring of Steel Protection he was already wearing, stuffing it into his bracer.

"One coin given by a pauper has more value than the wealth of the world given by a prince."

He put the nearly identical ring in its proper position. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide.

"This is awkward."

"What do you mean?"

"We just exchanged rings in the presence of a priest."

Lucatiel choked.

"I'm flattered, but-" she started.

"Relax! We just never mention this happened! Least of all to my wife!"

The swordswoman relaxed.

"So your god, Slaanesh, allows marriage?"

"More like nearly every worshiper of Slaanesh is a sexual deviant. It's a bad stereotype, but it's pretty true."

He paused.

"Have I mentioned that my wife's lower body is a spider? Not just like legs. An entire spider."

Lucatiel was rapidly growing used to the things Lex said.

"I didn't need to know that," she groaned.

That aside, she found Lex a more than reliable traveling companion, though he occasionally said eerie things like "those creatures with the giant arms are what humans really look like." He seemed unfazed by things like race, conversing with a wayward gyrm in one of the ruined buildings. By the time they had reached the pier, she trusted in his prophetic knowledge as well. Here, they approached a stern-looking old sorcerer. The elder gave them a stern looking-over.

"Hmm… I see light, but it remains dim… I am Carhillion, and I've no interest in the magic-impaired."

"Hey. Hey. You can talk smack when you reverse-engineer a miracle into a sorcery. Because I did the opposite. Ever heard of sonic miracles? No? That's because I'm the only kid cool enough to think of making them."

"Have you a point, _cleric_?"

Lex tilted his head and grinned awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. I actually meant to, uh, invite you to… let's call it an academic conference. There are a lot of scholars in Drangleic, and I'm trying to get them all in one place. I can't _guarantee_ it, but I might even be able to get the grandfather of sorcery to attend."

"What's this nonsense? I left Melfia to get away from that sort of toxic, self-congratulatory forum. _Grandfather of sorcery_ , hmph!"

"No, I really mean that. What do you call him, the, uh, Paledrake, you know? I know that wasn't the word used, but that's what he's called in Drangleic-"

"More drivel!"

"Look, I'm just going to rattle off names: Felkin, Grandahl, Navlaan, Straid, Aldia, Seath!"

"Felkin was a fool, and none of the other names hold any meaning! Honestly."

"Okay, let's start with this. Whether or not you want to participate, all the sane ones are heading to Majula anyway. Rosabeth too."

At last, the old man's face softened.

"The girl, hm? I'm glad to hear she's safe. Perhaps I will visit. It does these old eyes no good to squint in the dark."

Lex nodded and motioned to Lucatiel. They headed toward the ship which had recently docked. It was of course crewed by maddened hollow pirates, but after clearing the decks, they descended to the cargo hold. Beyond the fog was a disgusting monster – once a human, its arms now long and scales covering its body. It slouched under the weight of a second man's torso stitched to its back.

"Keep to its sides! The only dangerous attack is the spin cycle!"

The prophet shook his sword twice, and lightning arced from the rings to the blade. Sure enough, they avoided most of its attacks by simply stepping out of the way. Eventually, Lex's dao came down hard between the sides, and with a roar, he cleft the second body off. As the main body staggered, Lucatiel ran her nimble sword through its ribs. It grunted only slightly but it did finally give up its souls, dispersing and dispersing the fog.

"Cool!" Lex said, giving her a thumbs-up. "Head back up on deck. The ship is actually magical, so I just need to set the course, and we'll be off."

Lucatiel nodded and returned the way they'd come. After some thought, she decided to stand at the prow, looking over the silent port. She wasn't beaten and battered. She hadn't died once. She hadn't so much as broken a sweat. She may have had her doubts, but the prophet was-

"I'M ON A BOAT! I'M ON A BOAT! EVERYBODY LOOK AT ME 'CAUSE I'M SAILING ON A BOAT! I'M ON A BOAT! I'M ON A BOAT! TAKE A GOOD HARD LOOK AT THE MOTHERFU-"


	4. Turtles all the way down

The enchanted ship took them to an isolated island that appeared on no map. Reaching it was only possible through knowledge of its position by the stars. Fortunately, as in Lordran before, Drangleic and its conquered lands were frozen in time. The stars and a pale moon hung still above the forbidden island, the final destination for those who first fell to the Curse. The deliberately Lost Bastille.

They fought through Undead hounds, fallen knights, and the mummified gaolers themselves. Three lanky golems the height of two men fell before them, then a veritable army of squat ones that only reached the knee. To finish the onslaught of animate inanimate objects, a flock (or a pack, perhaps) of gargoyles attacked them atop the roof of the tower where the princess of Venn was once held captive to prevent her elopement with the Prince of Alken.

"Back in the day, we thought the belltowers were going to be waaaay more important and interesting, but they were just a halfassed throwback in the end," Lex complained.

They slew an invading spirit and spoke with a mad smith. All the while, the prophet pointed out strange details. For example:

"Someone left all this black powder lying around basically everywhere. Why? They're not doing any excavation or demolition, except the Iron King. I kind of feel like they were going to have guns but then cut them because Loadborne."

and

"Notice how all the gaolers are mummified? It's possible that they all had their flesh burnt off _or_ that they were fully prepared to hollow in their line of duty. We'll never know, but that pyromancy you saw in mind. It's important to understanding the Old One."

That was, of course, the reason why they had come. The many Bearers of the Curse were subtly drawn toward the Great Souls, but the prophet knew exactly where to find the one here. It was obvious, in retrospect. While the Princess' tower was in the heart of the fortifications, there was another tower that stood away from it, in its shadow. While likewise ruined, the bulk of its walls were intact, and they stretched down to the sea far below.

It was guarded by still more knight-soldiers, and in its flooded depths, unspeakable monsters lurked. The normally agile swordswoman had difficulty maneuvering through the knee-deep mire, but the cleric simply laughed and passed through it as if it weren't there at all.

"Why would they not include this effect in any form?" he complained jadedly as he whisked around one of the beasts and tore open its patchwork flesh. "If I'd known this would have happened, I've have brought a whole bunch of Rusted Iron Rings, because Drangleic needs them like I need a bath right now. This is gross."

"Why is the ring rusted?"

"Part of the enchantment involves keeping them submerged in water. Since the effect requires the magical properties of iron as a nullifier, that means you end up with an awful, crusty, rusted ring. You can't even file it off since that ruins the enchantment. We actually artificially age them to wear them down and keep anyone from getting tetanus."

"And you say you have many of these?"

"Oh, yeah. Like, magic items were generally dwindling even in my time. The various rulers of Light always cause a renaissance, but as you can see, things tend to get lost over time. Since I stopped the Curse, though, we're starting production again. My sword was actually the first new magic item produced in Izalith since it exploded and everyone turned into giant monsters."

"How did you escape such a fate?"

"That was several hundred years before I showed up. I offered my services at first but then eventually married into the royal family. I mean, there aren't a whole lot of suitors for a princess who's _that_ attached to a pet."

Lucatiel actually chuckled that time.

"So in order, the husbands are a skeleton, a hedonist, a cactus, and a swamp hermit. The princesses pretty much abandoned all pretensions of nobility. You can't rebuild a kingdom when the entire population is royalty you can count on one hand."

"That sounds… almost like a dream. There was only one way up in Mirrah. Join the Order and prove yourself in battle. I was raised to wield a sword from birth. Life was hard, but I never gave it a second thought.

I had swift success on the battlefield, and quickly attained respectable stature. And then I…"

"Don't feel bad. My first death was getting impaled and then lifted off the ground so the serrated blade dug further and further into my guts. I was trying to talk my way out of a fight, and it backfired. And that's the story of how I met my wife."

While Lucatiel tried to think of a retort, another of the exploding mummies shuffled toward them, and they were forced to cut the conversation short. Beyond the gate was a second tower set apart. A narrow stone bridge connected the two, the waves lapping at either side, while jagged pillars of sea salt surrounded the path like teeth. Ahead lay the fog gate, but on either side was a spiral stair leading to a cell door. Lucatiel waited by the fog, setting her mind toward the fight ahead while Lex entered one cell, then the other, setting fire to iron gutters filled with pitch.

When they entered the fog, they found a massive open room. The whole chamber was circular, ancient and rotten banners hanging from the walls as if in a coliseum. More concerning were the countless chain manacles hanging from the ceiling like the branches of a willow. Still more chains traced along the floor like roots, weaving around each other and the indecipherable runic text scorched onto the stone. Against the far door sat a prisoner wrapped in tatters, hands bound, and head burdened with an iron mask.

Lucatiel shuddered as the frail humanity in her reacted to the presence of the Old One and the immense Flame it carried. The blood rushed to her head, and her vision swam.

"This effect is stupid and has no lore basis. I bet they were demoing it to see if people would like it before deciding whether to put it in Bloodborne."

The prisoner looked up lazily. Something was crawling on the mask. Bug and prisoner alike paused. There was a tremendous inhuman chirp, then the shriek of a woman hoarse with wrath. The bug slithered into one of the mask's eye holes. The prisoner grunted with pain as it did so, but she remained utterly focused on Lex.

"Ah, crap. Lucatiel, get ready."

He waved her to one side and took a step forward.

"Priestess of Eleum Loyce! It's not what it looks like! I can take you back! The Silent Oracle is suppressing the Chaos even now! We can free the Ivory King!"

The shriek was like the hissing of a thousand insect wings: " _LIAR!_ "

"I did not travel centuries into the future to be backsassed, young lady! Time for Grandpa to introduce you to some good, old-fashioned, corporeal punishment!"

Lucatiel didn't wait for her companion to finish boasting. He was far more powerful than her and had the immense tactical advantage of foreknowledge. Though the prisoner's hands were bound by a pillory, that hardly seemed to weaken her grip on the massive claymore longer than even the impressive height of an Old One. The monster shrieked again, whipping its sword with enough force to extinguish the lamps behind it. The braziers fortunately kept the room lit, and it even seemed that the Old One shied away from the light.

The hesitation lasted hardly a moment. The prisoner, the so-called priestess, seemed just as dangerous with a blade as her counterpart. She raised the long blade into a lunging pose while the prophet let his heavy saber rest at his side. The Old One feinted a charge but quickly jerked to one side, using her more-than-human body to generate an enormous amount of torque. The hammering blow came down on Lex's undefended left.

With unexpected flexibility, the prophet bent his body backward and slid into the diagonal slash to widen his stance, just barely avoiding the blade while keeping his balance. Instead of striking back, he used the momentum of his pivoting body to spin up and around, hooking the prisoner's neck and hurling her to the ground with the force of her own blow.

"Yeah! So this is what it feels like to be Kirk!"

That window was all Lucatiel needed. She abandoned her cautious pacing and stabbed at the Old One's legs, combining the brute weight of her greatsword with her refined fencing technique to shred the monster's calves. It shrieked and shuddered, but she continued the onslaught with grim resolve.

"No, get back!"

As she withdrew her blade from the final strike, the tip was red-hot. As the pair watched, smoke trailed from the Old One's wounds, erasing them as it dissipated.

"This is different," Lex said to Lucatiel quickly. "She's not supposed to use her powers."

The prisoner beat the concrete floor furiously, then bashed at her mask with the edge of the pillory.

"I see," the prophet continued. "She doesn't want to. She normally suppresses them, but she's too emotional right now."

"Her life is at risk. What reason would she have for that?"

"Well. Suppressing what that power created destroyed her whole kingdom in exchange for protecting the rest of the world. For now."

"Hold on. She can't suppress this world-endangering power if she's emotional, and you keep _taunting_ her?"

"Relax. It's just an echo of what came before."

They stepped away from one another as the prisoner rose again, a faint glossolalia echoing from inside the mask. She looked about the chamber, turning her head limply, as if it might fall off. Suddenly, it snapped back in a blur of motion as she lunged forward. Her immense reach allowed her to strike at both of them with a wild sweep that bent her body like a reed. Lucatiel simply deflected the unbalanced blow with her steady shield, and it missed Lex completely.

The prophet rushed in, but the Old One's body whipped back, her bones audibly snapping under the strain. Unfortunately, the unexpected attack succeeded in dealing more damage to its intended target than the backlash. The prisoner writhed in pain as its shattered body realigned, but Lex had ragdolled across the chamber. His blood was splattered all across the concrete floor, but even the smallest drop was melting the concrete.

"What in the- Lex, are you all right?"

Lucatiel quickly moved between the healing Old One and the fallen prophet.

"I'm hot-blooded, check it and see! I've got a fever of a hundred and three! Come on, baby-!"

"I'll take that for a yes!"

The swordswoman hazarded a glance to the floor. As wisps of smoke rose from her companion's blood, she wondered if turning her back to him was a good idea. She had little time to mull it over as the Old One charged madly, intent on running through both of them. Lucatiel caught the greatsword on the inner rim of her shield, and though the blow nearly took her off her feet, it sent the enormous weapon far off course. She was a veteran combatant; seeing Lex throw the enemy off-balance once was all she needed.

A swift lunge into the left armpit, and the monster's power was halved. The knight quickly withdrew her sword before the burning blood could cause any harm and ducked under a retaliatory swing. She kept close – though her sword was long, her foe's was longer. While the Old One could attack with impossible speed, the close distance kept the prisoner from bringing all her power to bear. Of course, the Old One retreated in a single powerful leap, so Lucatiel was forced to hold back and take a defensive stance.

The absurdly long greatsword flashed overhead like a shooting star. Lucatiel blocked it, but yelped in pain as the force of the blow shattered her arm. Her shield clattered to the ground uselessly even as the Old One raised her sword again.

"Lucatiel!"

There was a sudden impact, and the knight found herself whizzing through the air. She arced away from and past the prisoner. Just as quickly, she began to approach again from behind. As she built up speed, she ran her own sword through the Old One's back. Rushing past the monster was an attack in itself, as the force tore the sword away violently in the knight's iron grip.

Lucatiel skidded to her feet as Lex kicked a jet of flame behind him, revolving faster and faster on one of the hanging chains. Magma poured from the Old One's side as she stood still, as if stunned.

"Use it or lose it, priestess!" Lex yelled. "Speaking of which, I'm going to lose my lunch if I keep this up."

He angled high so that as he finished his loop, he was on a collision course with the prisoner. At last, he let go of the chain and bucked his hips with all the force of a human-sized insect to unleash a Chaos-fueled Knee of Justice. As his kneepad of solid demon titanite made contact with the crude iron of the mask, the lesser metal crumpled like tissue paper. The Old One hurtled backward, crumpling against the wall, but the Chaos Lord rushed in, kicking through the air and swinging on another chain.

"FALCON KICK!"

He ignited his boot again as he flung himself at the prisoner. Her body snapped rigid, drawing her sword to block. Though the blade's longtime exposure to the power of Chaos had strengthened it, it had never experienced that power, unrestrained. It did manage to fend off Lex's attack, but it was left in a bowed, near-unusable state.

"Let me repeat myself. I _will_ save the Silent Oracle and the Ivory King. You don't have to travel with me, but if you stay here, squandering that power, I _will_ take it from you."

" _DEMON! LIAR!_ " the shrieking, buzzing voice rang out all the clearer for the shattered mask.

The prisoner fell on all fours, shattering its rotten restraints, but she skittered like an insect rather than loping like a beast. She leapt at Lex before he could get the half-melted sword out of his way. Needle-like fangs gnashed at his throat but couldn't penetrate his armored collar. While Lex was no weakling, most of his strength came from his magic. He couldn't shake off the might of madness.

While the monster was distracted, Lucatiel approached, her soft leather boots quiet on the smooth concrete. Despite the flailing, Lex was able to see over the frenzied Old One's head. He caught the swordswoman's eye and nodded subtly. He stopped struggling and instead wrapped his arms around the prisoner's lower back, vines pouring from beneath his bracers to bind her in place.

"Now! Take us both out, Piccolo!"

Lucatiel's eyes narrowed, but she obeyed, running her sword through the Old One's back. It ran through cleanly, though Lex had exaggerated – it clanged to a stop against his armor without harming him. Even this wasn't enough to stop the priestess desperate to restrain the Old Chaos. Magma and steel constantly poured out of her pierced heart as Lucatiel pressed the melting sword deeper and deeper. The prisoner and her withered, suppressed Soul struggled uselessly against Lex's half of Chaos' full power.

He took a deep breath and blew fire across her crumbling mask. The iron burnt away to reveal a face horribly torn by the iron maiden-like spikes of the restraint, but even those eternal wounds began to heal themselves against the priestess's will. The true face of the Old One whose name had been forgotten was an ice-pale woman, a little heavyset, with one cold blue eye. Her bald head was covered in elaborate runes of Chaos sealing Lex recognized from Quelana's defensive magic.

"You don't have to fight the Chaos, you know. Use it as it uses you. I think you realize that's what you've been doing. You have the power to stop the Curse. Use it, or I'll take it from you."

" _Liar, liar, soul on fire,_ " the woman quietly screeched, breathing quickly, her eye losing focus.

"My soul is only on fire because this is a terribly awkward position, and my wife wasn't around to help with my morning wood."

Lucatiel coughed.

"Right," Lex sighed.

He closed his eyes and stretched his neck. When his eyes fluttered open again, they were black with glowing rings, a twinned image of the Darksign.

" ** _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._** "

The priestess looked ill. Burning spittle dripped from her open mouth, and what little humanity she had left began to ooze out. She shrieked and shuddered, and the insect that had burrowed into her empty eye socket looked out from the darkness.

"This is your last chance. They call you the Sinner, because relighting the First Flame is a Sin against the cycle. I _broke_ that cycle. Chaos has that power. What did you do with it?"

"Chaos destroyed everything!" the woman spat, her voice returned to normal without the influence of the maggot. "I am not a priestess! I began that order to pass on what I knew of stopping what I created! _That_ is my Sin!"

"They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. They clearly have no idea what they're talking about because you can't pave over a poison swamp. Well, not without a lot of concrete mix. More to the point, my wife's home was destroyed by Chaos. Her mother died, and the most of her family were turned into demons, herself included."

The Sinner's eye twitched.

"Yes, I married a demon. And then we saved the rightful king of the gods, ended the Curse, and began rebuilding her city with the power that destroyed it. Humans and gods alike swear fealty to Chaos Queen Laag. And here you are, hiding in the dark – what is it, executing prisoners?

This is your chance to make amends. Do something with that power, or _I will_."

"You cannot fool me, demon! I won't-"

"You feel it, don't you? That we have the same Soul?"

At last, he relaxed the vines and wriggled free. Lucatiel gave him a long, hard look. It had been hard to believe some of the things he had said. Prophets are rarely so… frank. That he was an Old One, she believed immediately.

Rather, she wondered how she hadn't realized it before. It wasn't a lingering suspicion she had so much as her Undead instinct urging her to take his Soul. Still, he was more than a little dangerous. Possibly unhinged.

"Lex, careful!" she said, raising a knife that was her last resort weapon. "She'll knock you out again, and I'm in no shape to fight!"

The Chaos Lord looked at the Sinner with his burning eyes. She glared back with her one good eye and the six eyes of the maggot.

"Have it your way," she said defiantly. "I shall return anon to Eleum Loyce. The voyage will be long-"

"The voyage isn't happening. We can just use some unexplained snake shrine to go directly there. Well, I say 'directly,' but there's actually a bunch of other places we need to go first. I'd like to have my wife's help in confronting Chaos of that magnitude."

The priestess grimaced.

"So be it. It may behoove us to find stalwart companions for such a venture."

Lex nodded.

"I did bring the entire family when confronting the original Bed of Chaos. It was surprisingly easy, but I doubt there's anything that could stand against that sort of ambush."

"Prophet, if you don't mind," Lucatiel said flatly, "would you answer a question?"

"Shoot."

"The Herald said to claim the Great Souls. Why did you invite the Old One to travel with us?"

"I'll claim her as a dependent on my income tax return. And I'm pretty sure all Shanalotte ever says is 'Bearer… Seek… Seek… Lest…'"

"Sure," the knight grumbled.

She looked wistfully at her ruined sword but said nothing further.

"Right, so let's head back to Majula so we can start on the next path."

He headed toward the sealed door but looked back to the Sinner.

"Come to think of it, what's your name? We can't just keep calling you 'the Old One.'"

"'Old One' is suitable. It is fitting that the name of one such as I is forgotten."

"Then I'm calling you Safiya because that's the name of another bald, tattooed witch involved in a convoluted reincarnation plot."

Lex walked off before she could reply, so she simply gritted her teeth, reclaimed her melted sword, and followed after. At the end of the passage, the three of them approached a bonfire whose sword had broken from age. The cleric lit the fire with the shooting motion he'd come accustomed to using, and as he focused on it, the world was overrun with smoke.

"Bearer of the Curse…" the Emerald Herald began as a figure began to rise from the Far Fire.

Abruptly, it was three figures. Then it was…

"By the dragon!"

"Whaaaaat?" Lex said, shrugging. "You thought I wouldn't get along with my mother-in-law?"

Lucatiel decided she wanted no part in the coming discussion and headed straight into the smithy.


	5. Rope is an essential adventuring tool

The Emerald Herald, Keeper of the Last Flame, had been created by men who dared think they could cozen fate. They failed, and they suffered for it. Lex's recruitment of the Lost Sinner was no less audacious. He too would fail, and there would be dire consequences. Yet he ignored her rebuke and insisted his power was greater than the destiny of the world.

At last, she gave up on him. She wait for another Bearer of the Curse. Again. The fool went on to explain his plans for the immediate future to his companions. They were skeptical, but they had not seen the works of Aldia, and so they still hoped.

"So anyway, I'll be back to grab you in like… half an hour. Maybe. Just sit at the bonfire, and I'll probably show up instantly because of the time contraction."

He waved and headed to the center of the town, where a walled pit stretched down indefinitely. As he squatted beside it, a root shot from his bracer and burrowed into the ground. With that, he turned and began rappelling down the side of the chasm. He stopped when he reached a lighted ledge and entered the tunnel beyond, activating a bonfire just before an outcropping in the shape of a monstrous rat's maw. He followed the tunnel into a built-up cavern, sarcophagi filling pits in the walls while skulls rested in the stagnant pools covering the broken floor.

Directly ahead was a ring of broken columns. A light shone from a hole in the ceiling at their center, and in the light, a skeleton hung limply from a broken sarcophagus. Lex casually whipped a vine into the hanging stone coffin and climbed into the chamber above. Around the corner was a room filled with human bones, though an enormous, inhuman, fanged skull was among them. Atop the bones perched a rat the size of a pony.

Its fur was nearly black with filth and fallen away in some areas as the flesh beneath was instead black with rot. The eyes too were black, but they shone in the dim light. The stench of decay was overwhelming, but Lex did his best not to hold his breath.

"Leave this place, human."

The tone was mildly irritated, but the voice itself was pure and noble. The people of Drangleic were often weary or filled with a naive hope. This speaker was neither.

"We have no time for thy kind. Humans bring nothing but _filth_."

The prophet knelt.

"You were betrayed, Your Grace, but don't judge all humans by their Kings. They are gnawed by Dark and Flame alike."

"Thy welcome wearest thin. Leave this place."

"I will return the territory stolen from you. Your burrows are ever intruded upon, and your numbers cannot grow. I won't apologize for a sin I didn't commit, and I can't promise for a people I don't rule, but I _can_ give you a chance to rebuild."

"Who art thou, human, that thy tongue waggest like a dog's tail?"

"I am Lex, the prophet of the god of beauty, Slaanesh. She finds men and rats equally beautiful, for she judges the soul and not the form. Rat King, you are far more beautiful in her eyes than the weak Kings of men. Just the same, you are nearly given to Nurgle, god of decay. Still, in the interest of the Undivided pantheon, I will give you the Soul of the Great Dead One in exchange for a promise that you will work with the new King of men."

"Thou askest much of me. The human chieftain who betrayed us was also a man of the gods."

"Don't trust the gods. Never trust the gods. Trust instead that you'll be able to restore your people and defend your burrows with the power of the Old One."

The rat's nose twitched.

"It is as thou sayst, human. Thine own soul is strong enough that the stench of topsoil is overwhelming. A soul of such power mayeth be necessary if more of your kind becometh so mighty. Render the Dead One's soul unto me, and I shall swear again an alliance of rats and men, until thy filthy hearts reveal theirselves."

"Fair enough. Then I bid you farewell for now. I will return when I've recovered the Great Soul and laid waste to the Sanctum City. The Brightstone Cove will likely take longer, given its ruler."

"Mayst thy journey be smooth as pus."

Lex diplomatically avoided gagging and returned the way he came. This time, he instead descended through a hole in the floor beneath the hanging skeleton. Slowly lowering himself on an ever-growing vine, he found himself in the center of a great chamber, with the exploding gaolers strangely out of place and waiting for him in tunnels leading in either direction. Lightning spears, undiminished by the weakening of miracles in the worldly land of Drangleic, easily removed the threat. They stood in groups of three in waist-deep water, so the lightning easily struck all of them.

His path clear, Lex continued down one of the passages. The room beyond was a mess of scaffolding. He hopped from one platform to the next until he reached the bottom, where he continued to a ledge above a cavern of utter darkness. Statues with glowing green eyes blocked his path. He scowled and meticulously shoved all of them off the cliff.

The stench had actually grown worse since leaving the Rat King. This was the Gutter, to where all the waste of Drangleic and the prior kingdoms that had dotted this region drained. Though he couldn't see much further than his fingertips, he knew the whole of the chamber was filled with rickety wooden platforms and towers of compacted waste. The prophet tilted his head and wondered if he should do something stupid. A moment later, and he had jumped off the ledge, casting vines into the darkness.

"Spider-Lex! Spider-Lex! Spends all night having spider sex! Spins a web, any size! Gets tied up by his wife! Look out! Here comes a Spider-Lex!"

He descended the cavern in a flash. Hardly a minute since he'd entered, and he was on the cave floor. Mindless hollows wielding mining tools steeped in Dark stumbled toward him. Still on a Spider-Man kick, he shot a vine at one of them and threw it into a line of heart-shaped urns. The acid vats out of the way, he dropped down onto the path beyond.

Deeper into the caverns, light returned through a combination of glowing green moss and the glowing green eyes of countless statues.

"Yeah, no."

After stopping to light a bonfire in a side passage, he jumped off the ledge again and used his vines to run along the cave wall, avoiding the poison-spewing statues and deadly cave creatures. Eventually, he came upon a hidden tunnel. Here, he dropped down and continued into the pitch darkness.

"Well. Time to be a dick."

He took a deep breath and sighed. Acrid smoke poured out of his mouth, flowing down the tunnel and filling the cavern beyond. The Chaos Lord leaned against the cave wall and yawned. A minute or so later, and he absorbed a great deal of souls. At the end of this trail of undefined soul energy was a distinct soul, black as humanity yet burning as brightly as Flame.

He swallowed it without consuming it and entered the chamber beyond just long enough to search for the key lying on the ground. With it, he returned to the ledge and clambered over to another, where a sealed door lay. Inside was a cramped room holding only an altar like the one on which he'd awakened. Tucked away on the far side was a bearded old man in a wheelchair.

"Ahh, look how far this Undead has wandered," the man mused. "And a very fit Undead you are," he added, his voice rich and full.

"I need an adult."

The old man continued, "A bit too alive, but with a Darkish shadow. Yet still unprepared. For a deeper Dark. And like every Undead, you have no future."

"I actually know the future in absolute terms. I have the gift of prophecy. And, like, every time someone gets involved in the true Dark, they turn into a spooky monster and go berserk. I mean, your general plan of pilgrimage and study is better thought-out than Beatrice's 'kill everything and eat their souls' plan, but I'm not sure you realize what you're messing with."

"Oh my, one who is already aware of the abyss spirits."

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean these huge, spooky, highly flammable ghosts or else mutant werewolves with too many eyes in all the wrong places. Which are also highly flammable."

"You are confused. These are myths. I was mistaken about your-"

"No, really. I led the group that killed the Father of the Abyss and the Four Kings, shattering the Abyss. I'm from the distant past. At least five Lords of Light prior to the failure, Vendrick. The Xanthous King was my wife's stepfather."

"You speak nonsense. Yet I feel no perturbation of the Dark. And you know things no casual scholar would."

The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. Lex shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm just here because I want to farm humanity. I need fuel for my Chaos magic."

"I see. One of the Duke's men. We will meet again, young Undead."

The old man swiftly descended into a pool of inky Darkness.

"Get back here, dammit! I need that humanity!"

The Chosen Undead sighed and retreated back up the cave wall, lighting a bonfire in a hidden tunnel. He returned to Majula briefly before reappearing moments later with his companions.

"The second Old One already," Lucatiel said somberly. "I don't feel like I've earned this."

"You still won't by the end of the fight. The Rotten is the least impressive of the four. Don't get careless, and he won't even hit you."

The knight nodded shallowly, not counting on that. The Sinner merely smirked.

"What magic has this creature?" she said thoughtfully.

"Radial explosion. Sword beam. Standard stuff. When he stops attacking, just back off."

"Truth. This one has fought much worse."

Lex nodded and smashed some urns at the back of the cave, revealing a path out. They hopped down and sprinted past the poison-spitting statues to the fog gate. The cave beyond was burning red, bottomless pools of pitch burning eternally. A vaguely human mass of hollows bound together by chains and by their combined weight slithered across the cave floor, dragged by the hands of a dozen crushed bodies. The room was full of the same statues as outside, only without the glowing eyes.

The monster approached a broken one and attempted to set its head back in place with its clumsy fingers made of human legs. The head soon rolled off again, and the monster took its head in its hands, throwing a small tantrum. The structure of its body meant that it had eyes in every direction, but it took a moment for it to notice the intruders. It rotated in place on its stump of a torso and faced them with a head that was little more than a bent cage holding corpses in a ball shape. In its hand was a massive cleaver, and on the opposite shoulder was one hollow that rose above the rest.

Its entire upper body was free from the collection of ruined bodies. It lethargically raised its hand to point at them, and the main body roared with a dozen voices. The trio didn't wait for it to come to them. Lucatiel quickly hid in the shadow of the cleaver, where it couldn't strike her with its full strength. Lex paused only to set his sword abuzz with his Sonic Weapon spell before charging straight at it. The Sinner, or Safiya as the prophet insisted, frowned.

"Fools."

She cartwheeled through the air and landed atop the creature. She kicked its head to get a boost, then swung her massive greatsword with all her might. The single hollow atop the shoulder fell to the stone, its spine cleanly severed by the blade made to slay Sinners and oathbreakers. The main body of the Rotten trembled, and with a sharp release of Dark energy, began to slough apart.

"Right. I could have done _that_ ," Lex said awkwardly. "Something to keep in mind for later."

He and Lucatiel joined Safiya, standing over the pathetic, mindless Old One.

"End its suffering," the knight said.

"Right. I'll just-"

The Chosen Undead was overwhelmed by a swimming sensation. Space dimmed and blurred. He blinked and rubbed his head, shrugging it off.

"Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhelp…" the Rotten wheezed, making eye contact.

Its withered, leathery face suddenly looked very familiar.

"Hey! I know you!"

Safiya shot him a suspicious glare.

"I don't think I can be surprised anymore," Lucatiel sighed.

"What, no, he was a dick," Lex said, firmly jabbing his shimmering sword into the Old One's face. "That was the Four King I met. The one Beatrice hadn't eaten yet because he ran away like an idiot."


	6. Lucatiel is more wrathful than Elana

Far beneath the darkened realm of the Dead One was a grand cavern which was inexplicably well-lit. Beyond the sealed gate and the near-collapsed passage, the trio were treated to a magnificent view of a stepped pyramid rising from a subterranean sea. The ledge along which they passed was illuminated by faintly glowing green-white crystals, but the prophet told his companions to slow down and be quiet as they rounded the first bend. Directly ahead was a slumbering dragon. Lex raised the strange bit of fabric he used to cast miracles.

"WAKEY WAKEY DRAKEY FAKEY!"

An overwhelming bass pulse reverberated through the whole of the cavern. Souls rushed to the trio from far-away enemies that had been blasted off ledges by the echoes. The dragon roared to consciousness, but stunned by its sudden awakening, flew off drunkenly to find the culprit without realizing he was immediately ahead.

"So anyway, welcome to Shulva. You might have a strange bit of nostalgia, Safiya. What with the horrifying insects and pyromancer tree queen."

"I do not, at present."

"Just a heads-up. (Nito's level my ass…)"

"I'd heard there were dragons in Drangleic, but I had never believed the stories…" Lucatiel said, slightly in awe.

"Nah, they're all fake. Except the giant spider. That's the real dragon."

"What do you mean, fake? What else do you call a giant, flying reptile?"

"Drake. Or wyvern. It's kind of vague. In my time, there was only one semi-true dragon left. It's possible, of course, that there were others hiding, but I doubt it.

The problem here is that neither dragons nor their lesser cousins the drakes had _souls_. Sure, they were animated by soul force like everything else, but there was no distinction between body and spirit. Sinh, that thing that just passed us? He has a _big_ soul. So do some other so-called 'dragons' in Drangleic, incidentally.

As for the spider, he cheated. The so-called Paledrake _created_ a soul for himself using one of the Great Souls as a catalyst. He gave up immortality of the flesh for immortality of the spirit. A shame (or not) he forgot that the mind is definitely a fleshy bit."

"It sounds like a difficult matter."

"You don't-"

Safiya put a hand on Lex's shoulder.

"I am greatly intrigued by this topic, but for now, we should press on. We are hardly safe with such a creature about, pretender or no."

"Aaaaactually, the bonfire's right around the corner."

It was, and Lucatiel and Safiya relaxed a little.

"Hold on a minute," Lex said as they started to continue. "Conveniently, there's only one enemy directly ahead. I want you to fight it alone, Lucatiel. You're almost definitely here before you're supposed to be, if you were supposed to come at all. I need to see how effectively you can fight these enemies."

"What?"

Lucatiel had momentarily forgotten that Lex was a prophet and not just an overbearing know-it-all like most high-ranking clerics.

"Oh, I see. Might I ask what they are?"

"Hollows, actually. You'll see in a moment."

The knight hesitated, looking at him and waiting for the punchline. A moment more, and she did continue down the path. Around the corner, a hollow rested inert against a flat tower wall. It rose as she approached, rising to stand a full head over her. Corroded bits of plate armor still clung to it, but its bloated, rotten flesh looked as if it provided more than enough protection.

The dull creature raised a greatclub as long as it was tall and swung it lazily. Lucatiel had no trouble bringing up her shield in time to block it. It was once she had done so that the trouble began. Though the attack was practically in slow motion, it struck the steel plate with enough force to numb her arm. Worse, rancid water drained from within the porous mace to splatter her, causing her to gag.

She quickly stepped away and lunged into the hollow's side, scoring a clean hit through its ribs. This did nothing to stop it. The creature simply turned, pulling her along with it as she kept a firm grip on her sword. It swung again, oblivious to the fact that in doing so, it dragged its victim out of the way. At last, she jerked her sword free and slashed at its ankle to trip it.

This likewise did nothing, and it shambled after her as she tried to get away. The swordswoman waited for it to approach, then quickly slipped behind it as it attacked. This time, she ran her sword cleanly through its gut. She pulled the blade out halfway before jabbing it in again and again until the hollow's muscles were cut, and it slumped over uselessly. Panting, she kicked the thing over and crushed its head underfoot.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I thought," Lex sighed. "These things have poise for days. Papa Nurgle's not kidding around anymore."

He paused.

"Poise...on. Poison. Dear god, I hope that pun's not why. Anyway, Shulva's full of them. We're going to need to find you a better way to fight them or else grind you up to par. Speaking of which…"

He fumbled through a belt pouch and removed a silver ring forged in the shape of a slithering snake.

"Wear this. It'll increase the amount of souls you receive."

She looked at the distasteful ornament for a moment before taking it.

"Will this really help?" she sighed. "A failure of a knight hardly seems like any help to two Old Ones."

"Don't be like that Lucatieeeeeeel. That's why you were hollowing so fast. I managed to defeat the original Lords while I was still human! Sort of. Honestly, like half of those ended with Friendships rather than Fatalities.

But hey! Oscar defeated the hollow of the king of the gods without any magic or anything. Let's head back to the bonfire and respawn that guy. This time, just try parrying his attacks. Oscar could parry the world, but let's start you off with these slow guys."

"If you say so."

It was clear in Lucatiel's tone that her pride had taken a hit, but Lex and Safiya both had that obliviousness that comes from staying indoors too much.

"Who is this 'Oscar' of whom you speak?" the Sinner asked. "I have heard nothing of gods being real, much less going hollow."

"Well, technically, only humans and creatures that eat humans can. Linking your soul to the First Flame has kind of a similar effect, though. Well, it's more like hollowing is like that than the other way around. Obviously. Oscar was my first companion after I became Undead.

An elite knight from Astora, the nation known for that sort of thing. He was going to go hollow, but then I kind of poured Estus down his nose, and then he was too busy choking to remember he was dying of despair. Anyway, he mastered parrying to the point that if he fell off a cliff, he could probably survive by parrying the ground. Like a Solar Exalt. Or Bruce Lee."

Safiya chuckled politely, but Lucatiel was silent. They flared the bonfire, and the swordswoman again stepped forward to face the oversized, rotten hollow. It swung slowly enough. Again, she had no problem raising her shield in time. She parried and lunged forward for the riposte.

Only, her attack again failed to finish the hollow, which fell onto her and snapped its teeth along her tall collar. Screaming in rage, she let go of her sword, stuck in the thing's torso, and punched it in the temple. It staggered, and she kneed it in the groin. Though the attack lacked the impact it would have on a living target, it managed to dislodge the hollow from her. Furious, she smashed the creature over with her shield and stomped at it until it stopped moving.

"I can't do this!" she fumed, looking back at Lex. "I'm not like you or that Oscar or any of the others you might have traveled with! I'm just… human. A failure. I don't know."

Her expression couldn't be read through the mask, but even Lex wouldn't have much trouble guessing.

"Calm down, Lucatiel. I was just seeing if you could-"

"If I could what?! If I'm 'up to par'? With someone who possesses a Great Soul?"

"Lucatiel, my sword is like fifty percent titanite! We just need to get you upgrades."

"No. Your world and mine are too different. This journey is as much for myself as it is to find my brother. It won't mean anything if I grow stronger because you improved my equipment. I… I appreciate everything you have done for me. That is a debt I may never repay. But I will never be able to repay it if you do everything for me."

Lex frowned.

"Well, I can't say you're wrong."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just remember to keep that ring fixed."

"Hmph. I won't let this life you gave me go to waste."

The knight doffed her hat and turned to go.

"Wait. There's one other thing. The reason why you had the unfortunate destiny of being an inferior tank to Solaire is that you don't have any ranged attacks. You can't use magic, a bow would be inconvenient, and a crossbow would only slow you down."

The prophet opened a belt pouch and withdrew a black iron wand. He flipped it around and extended it to her. She hesitated. When at last she reached for it, Lex shook his head.

"Offhand."

Lucatiel nodded, taking hold of the curved handle of marbled ebony with her left hand. It was heavy but well-balanced.

"This is like a spell tool for those with no magic. You'll still need the ritual implements to use it. It's fully loaded right now, but you'll need to collect blasting powder and have Lenigrast forge you ammunition. You can use it to attack at range or to parry attacks up close if you're ballsy. They say the gods made man but Samuel Colt made them equal."

"Thank you," Lucatiel said quietly. "I hope when we meet again, I'll be able to begin repaying everything you've given me."

As the echos of the knight's footsteps began to fade, Safiya spoke at last.

"What did you give her? What sort of spell tool could there be for who can't use magic? It looked like a mechanical device."

"It is. That was a prototype the god of invention gave me for field testing. It's called a gun."

Though neither wished to say it, the loss of Lucatiel meant that they could progress through the Sanctum City at breakneck pace. The prophet already knew how to progress, and both were strong enough that the enemies posed little challenge. As they approached the smaller pyramid, the dragon flew by, blasting the bridge ahead with breath that wasn't merely fire but rather poison gas that was alight. Lex swore at it, but they continued onward, down through the pyramid until they reached the cavern floor. Here, there were deformed, eyeless black dragons that loped awkwardly on two legs.

"As you can see, the dragonbutts returned with a vengeance!"

There, they activated the mechanism to raise the rest of the incomplete bridge to the main pyramid and headed back up. Much of the interior had crumbled into darkened hallways and deadly drops. Throughout, there were the hollows of an order of knights more elite than even Oscar's.

"Right, so take note. They've got shields from Heide. Now, Heide apparently employed at least one Dragonslayer. But Heide is currently occupied by Drangleic, which instead has a dragon fetish. These knights also have a dragon fetish.

Consider also that we'll end up fighting a duplicate of Drangleic's one-man royal guard. It is therefore possible that these guys are here on orders from Drangleic. If that's so, we can pin the blame for all of this on Nashandra, just like everything else. It doesn't change anything, really, but it's interesting to know."

As they descended, a faint singing could be heard echoing from the depths. At the utmost bottom of the pyramid, the song could be heard clearly as a corruption of the one Nito had taught Lex. With months of singing lessons under his belt, the prophet hummed the original tune quite admirably as he and Safiya approached the fog gate.

"Right, so the basic strategy for this fight is basically just brutal violence. We beat the crap out of her; she summons stuff; we beat the crap out of that; we beat the crap out of her some more for being annoying. Avoid the spells, obviously, but you'll only really get hit by them if you're not paying attention anyway."

The chamber beyond was a natural cavern framed by columns. The floor had once been paved with tile, but those were shattered and scattered to reveal the damp earth. The far wall was an immense relief depicting humans and drakes bowing before a massive dragon. It was illuminated by a line of candles at its foot, and a woman twice the size of a human stood before it, enormous stone poleaxe in hand. Her body and gown were one, a creature made of rotten wood which interwove like a human effigy. The singing stopped.

"Hmph. You are not deserving of the mire."

"Elana. Elana. Elana. Elana!"

"What?"

"Danger Zone."

Before the Queen of Shulva could react, Safiya shot forward on jets of flame and pinned her against the relief. She raised her arms to cast, but the Sinner twisted her Sin-shredding sword through the Child of Dark so that only gasps of agony came out. Eventually, the Queen recovered her composure and vanished in a cloud of Dark and rot. She burst from the air like pus from a wound and swept her arm dramatically to summon orbs of darkness about her. No sooner had they formed that they hurled themselves at Lex, who'd closed the distance in flash.

He dodged the slow missiles easily and spun about, hacking through the wood of her body with his sword. As the steel tore the upper layer, the vibrating magic that buzzed along the blade reached deeper and tore at her heart. She quickly teleported again, but Safiya had been waiting. Crouched against the relief like a spring, she shot at the Queen like a rocket and drove her blade clear through again.

"You know," Lex said, approaching casually, "you're a really awful embodiment of wrath. Isn't it supposed to be a personal matter? You're kind of a non-threat if you can't summon."

"Do you intend to speak with every monster you encounter?" the Sinner huffed as Elana warped away again.

"Maybe. It works out better than you'd think. I got married, and Nito got married, and…"

"The full story can wait."

"Well, long story short – hey Elana! I killed your dad! You're a disappointment as a daughter!"

The tree woman shrieked, and pillars of Chaos flame erupted from the torn floor. Lex and Safiya chuckled amongst themselves and walked through unharmed.

"Also, you're basically just a crap copy of my mother-in-law!"

The Queen waved her arm like a conductor, and a pool of decay pooled on the ground. The slurry of putrefied flesh and mud rose in the shape of an armored figure with a great bell-shaped hammer.

"You're not worth the _Dies Irae_ reference in your soul description! My wife is a better incarnation of wrath! And scarier! And more attractive! And now I'm kind of turned on!"

The giant creature of rot thundered forward and swung its hammer overhead, but there was never any chance of it hitting either Chaos Lord. The Queen swept her poleaxe with a wild, full body swing, but that too was barely a threat. Lex dropped to his knees and slid under the slash while Safiya lunged into the air. The Lost Sinner's sword drove through the Queen's throat while Duran Durandal cleft upward through her gut.

"You will… suffer… without me… the dragon…"

"Yeah, yeah, we're killing him next. Seriously, it's like you think the gecko stands a chance. It'd have better luck selling me car insurance."

The Queen withered until her animating souls burst forth. Among them was her own soul, a burbling purple orb which Lex carelessly stuffed into a pouch. With the death of the high priestess, the relief split and opened the path to the sacred dragon's lair.

"Are you truly that confident?" Safiya asked plainly. "The guardian was frail, and the beast may be fraudulent as you say. Still, it is a great, winged thing. We cannot be overcautious."

"Nah, it's not a real fight. Have you ever done that sprinting exercise where you run for a goal, run back, then run for a further goal? That's what this is. The entire thing is just chasing the damned thing. You're more likely to wear out your equipment than die, since his skin is covered in invisible acid."

"That is good to know. I shall endeavor to strike only when I know I can inflict a grave wound."

"Well, don't worry about it too much. We could beat him easily with just the two of us, but we're not going to. This is a great opportunity to make friends."

"Perhaps. Overcoming a grand foe can be cause for celebration. Who do you intend to befriend? Who would willingly accept a stranger's invitation to battle a dragon?"

"Easy. Someone who's already killed another fake dragon."


	7. Very good, very good indeed

The second most dangerous prisoner of the Bastille didn't warrant his own tower, but he was guarded far more heavily than any other. Of course, the long years and slow hollowing had made the gaolers lax in their watch. Slumped against the walls as they were, they could hardly put up a fight as the pair of Lords swept the room. The cell door was open. Should the prisoner have escaped his confinement, the bars would have only shielded him from the guards.

No ordinary prison could have held such a dangerous individual. The only way to keep him bound was to seal his immense power, and the easiest means of doing that was to turn him to stone. The classically attractive man stood frozen in the doorway, a defiant smirk on his face. A hood hung over his head, an attached vizard covering the upper part of his face, and a meticulously-groomed beard covered the lower part. In his hand was the most powerful staff a sorcerer had ever used.

Lex drew a short bit of petrified wood from one of his belt pouches. With a bit of effort, he snapped it in two and waved the ends in the statue's face. The pungent scent of primordial Flame awakened the man as it had awakened the stone dragons so long ago, and he staggered against the wall. He waved the prophet away and slowly forced himself standing.

"Still a bit stiff, I'm afraid," the sorcerer chuckled confidently. "I must thank you, young-"

He stopped and stared, first at Lex, then at Safiya.

"-no, Old Ones!" he laughed all the harder. "I am Straid. A wandering sorcerer of sorts."

"And with King Alvis of Olaphis, you slew the so-called Ancient Dragon."

"Very good! As expected of an Old One! Yes, Alvis invited me to Olaphis to deal with a number of problems, one of which purported to be a primordial dragon. An obvious fraud! My spells were as effective against it as against a common animal! Soul power, even as great as mine, would have been little more than a nuisance against a true dragon!"

"Okay, great. I wasn't sure if that was going to still be true after Aldia went and basically stole your role in the plot."

"What plot? Was this Aldia my successor in the Olaphis court?"

Lex threw his arms up and made a floundering gesture.

"Weeeeell, I don't usually say this because it confuses people, but I figure you'll get it. I'm actually from another world entirely, where this world is a piece of interactive fiction. Your role in it was greatly reduced due to a total rewrite of the plot midway through, and your role of the sorcerer who experiments on dragons was taken over by Aldia. Or maybe he was supposed to be a recurrence of you. Or maybe originally, you were supposed to be the guy who made all of the Old Iron King's golems-that-aren't-called-golems-because-Vendrick-trademarked-the-word. You know, since the god of invention used dragon bones to power his golems."

"I knew it! The madness has overcome you! I'll-" Safiya hissed, clutching her sword.

Straid rubbed his chin thoughtfully but quickly interrupted, "Hold! Mad or not, this is the most interesting story I've heard in a long while. Let him continue."

Lex relaxed but sidled away from the Sinner. She hissed through her teeth and gripped her sword all the tighter.

"No, that was pretty much it," the prophet continued hesitantly. "As an addendum, I was originally pulled from my world to the distant past, where I trampled all over the canon order of events, so this sequel shouldn't have happened to begin with."

"You don't look on all of us for being mere characters acting out a script?" Straid said pointedly.

"I can't; my wife is taller than me. More seriously, it's been said that if it's possible for a universe to be simulated, it's most likely that you're also in a simulation. Turtles all the way down, as the saying goes. Though I hate to imagine what sort of boring person would create my original world."

Straid had been smiling the whole time, but now he threw his head back and laughed.

"Very good! Very good indeed!

Safiya snorted and rubbed her missing eye.

"I have no desire to restart my adventuring days," the sorcerer continued, "but should you ever need assistance, I shall endeavor to assist you. I will remain here for now. The isolated surroundings are an ideal place to experiment. Bring me peculiar souls, and I will show you their true worth! Besides," he smirked, "I wouldn't dream of getting between you lovebirds."

"Oh, god, no. Safiya is the recurrence of my mother-in-law. And my wife has a bigger butt anyway."

"I haven't the faintest interest in a half-mad, carnally-minded braggart."

"I am the only priest of the dark god of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I'm not half as decadent as I ought to be. Anyway! Straid, I was actually coming to see if you wanted to help fight another fake dragon. Mainly because he's coated in invisible acid or some other nonsense, and I don't have a spare sword or anything."

The Sinner crossed her arms and walked to the other side of the room to calm herself down.

"Hmm. Perhaps," Straid said, rubbing his lip. "What manner of soul does the beast have?"

Lex groaned and grinned awkwardly.

"You can't turn it into anything. I'd have to take it to Ornifex, who'd turn it into a duplicate of the spear stuck in its chest."

"What?!" the legendary sorcerer exploded. "Now I'll have to go, just to see for myself! There cannot possibly be a soul from which I can derive nothing!"

Fortunately, there was a bonfire right next to him, in the center of the cell. Lex lit it, Safiya rejoined them, and they were back in the depths of the Sanctum City in mere moments.

"Well! I am suitably impressed!" Straid said as they stepped out of the fire. "You must teach me this magic! I'll trade for it!"

"I learned it in the past from an unfathomable sacred artifact which in the present is inexplicably lying broken in some guy's basement. But honestly, it's probably just a feature of the bonfires now. Nobody knows about it because everyone who did lived forever ago. I'll explain how it works when we're done, and then you can try it."

"Such a thing was hidden in plain sight? What purpose do those Keepers serve if not to keep such important knowledge about the bonfires?"

"Miyazaki digs helpless chicks. In-setting? Oral histories are a crapshoot."

"Heh. Very true."

"Can you not hurry?" the Sinner grumbled. "True, such a beast endangers what people may live in this land, but the Chaos threatens all. I do not relish these distractions."

"Well, actually, we're fine," Lex said, shrugging as he turned to face her. "As a function of the Flame being a stand-in for the concept of Law-slash-Yang-slash-Apollo, as it fades, so too do the rules of the universe cease to hold sway. Time is no longer strictly linear. Rather, as the Dark-slash-Chaos-slash-Yin-slash-Dionysian forces begin to take hold, the chronology shifts to a more event-driven model. Though this precedent was undoubtedly set in one of Moorcock's earlier works, it's most easily apparent in _Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne_ , as well as in a meta sense, the Warhammer 40,000 franchise, which has been stuck in the beginning of the 13th Black Crusade indefinitely in real time."

Straid had quickly begun to take notes on a bit of parchment using a hastily-constructed charcoal pencil. Safiya blanched and struggled to find her voice.

"You… weren't a fool?"

"You're being awfully judgmental for someone who sat around moping instead of using their unholy powers for good."

She ground her teeth instead of replying, so Lex pressed through the fog. They entered a worn courtyard lined with columns and ringed with stalagmites. Lex ran his Gold-Hemmed Black Talisman along the side of his blade. The air all around the sword rippled into a frenzy, and the rings along its back jingled ceaselessly. The prophet pointed his sonic weapon straight ahead.

"Rush him! Before he can get off the ground!"

The dragon had lain slumbering at the far end of the courtyard, obscured by the shadow of the stalagmites. All the racket had caused it to awaken, and now it roared and kicked up dust. It reared up on its hind legs and blew its rotten red-green flame overhead. The Sinner's long legs served her well, and she had crossed the field in a flash with long, loping strides. The prophet wasn't far behind, skating on blades of flame.

As the melee-oriented Lords took position on either side, the legendary sorcerer of Olaphis raised his crystal staff and flared up an enormous aura of soul force. Light burst from the focusing crystal, and as the dragon lunged forward to break out of the corner in which it had found itself, it rammed straight into a massive rush of souls. Though it was resistant to magic, the sheer brute force of the attack drove it back. Safiya dashed back toward it, her bare feet slapping on the stone with enough force to shatter the tiles that weren't already in pieces. As she came upon the beast, she wheeled through the air smashing her sword against the beast's jagged flesh with brute force alone.

"Louder! **_LOUDER!_** "

Lex raised his sonic-empowered sword and shook it so that the rings jangled louder and louder. With one final jerk, he took the weapon in both hands and smashed it against the ground. The resulting bass pulse was an invisible wave of utter destruction. The fragile, corroded stonework of the sanctum cracked and shattered. The pillars throughout the courtyard crumbled, and the dragon, directly in the blast's path, stumbled backward as its scales began to rattle out.

Straid quickly strafed the beast and unleashed a whirling vortex of souls into its side. Tongues of flame licked its flank as Safiya struck again and again. Her sword's edge was dulled from smashing at the poisonous stone scales, but now each hit sent them spraying away. Chaos flame leapt along the length of the blade, eating into the wounds with a power far more insidious than any mere poison.

The dragon roared in anguish and twisted away. It shot into the air with a single wingbeat and began to circle the courtyard. Green-black fire rained down as a stream of acrid death. The Lords hurried out of the way with their incredible speed, but Straid merely stamped the butt of his staff into the ground. A shimmering diamond-shaped barrier formed around him, and the toxic flames simply rolled over it.

The pair of warriors kept at the ready, dodging streams of wretched flame or explosive poison as the dragon flew overhead. Straid couldn't keep up his shield indefinitely, so when the opportunity came, he swiftly made his way to the walled edge of the arena, where the beast's attacks rarely hit. All three remained tensed, waiting for the dragon to land. Only, it never did. Five minutes passed, then ten.

Both their weapon enchantments and their patience had long expired before the dragon dipped in the air. It dive-bombed the Lords, and they leapt to either side, chasing it as it swept across the arena. Instead of landing, however, it veered upward and began circling again.

"Okay, screw this," Lex sighed. "Safiya, fastball special."

"I beg your pardon?" the Sinner said absently, hesitant to break her focus.

"Throw me at it. Throw me like a short, angry, hairy, immortal Canadian."

The dragon swept through with its fire breath again, forcing them to lazily dodge. The priestess sighed.

"Fine."

She quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed the prophet by his lean waist. He curled into a ball, and as the dragon began to wheel around in the air, she began to spin as well. As it rushed toward them, the Sinner threw with the strength of Lords, firing a pulse of red-pink Chaos energy from her palm as she let go. The shorter Chaos Lord hurtled through the air before striking the stone beast right on the nose.

"Argahdfllf! My shoulder!"

Lex bounced, spinning over the dragon's head. Before it got away, he slung a vine at it, rooting the parasitic plant deep in the crags of the beast's shattered flesh. He began to hum faintly as he reeled himself in.

"Luhn-Silvar, Hortator!"

The dragon lashed its tail wildly as he grabbed hold. His own strength wasn't enough to keep him on the creature's back, but lava dripped from his fingertips, burning handholds into the stone.

"Azura'm Gah'amer!"

Now the beast bucked wildly through the air, whipping its whole body with the strength of its mighty wings. Lex had quickly reached the base of the tail. Duran Durandal was resonating with the song and shimmering with power. The high priest of the god of music slowly drove the keening blade of his holy sword through the cracked flesh.

"Panthi-Seht, Sharmat-Dra!"

The dragon had become desperate, and the loss of its tail made its course all the more unstable. It smashed into the stalagmites surrounding the courtyard in an attempt to crush the prophet. The vine Lex had planted in the beast's flesh had grown into a web of climbing ivy that threatened to cover the whole creature. Each time the drake neared the rocks, he simply flung himself out of the way.

"Gahjuli Nerevar!"

In its panic, the dragon veered too low, and Safiya sprinted up a stone pillar to grab it by its throat. It struggled, but the Sinner's bear hug was no less powerful than the sealing manacles hanging about her wrist, now released. The drake choked and coughed poison as the extra weight dragged it toward the ground.

"Osuhn almese sut ohm yalif sul devahr…"

As the dragon carved a crater through the courtyard, Straid unleashed a hail of miniature soul spears. They arced up and over the beast's body, shredding its wings so that it couldn't take flight again.

"Nerevar!"

Lex stood atop the beast's back, gripping Yorgh's slagged spear. Lava dripped down the length of the shaft, burning away the corroded outer layer. The high priest of the god of pain and pleasure jerked the pole back and forth, running the tip through the dragon's breast.

"Right, so, one last thing. Did you become a dragon through Havel's covenant?"

The stone drake writhed madly and tried to stagger away, hissing and spitting without intelligence.

"Good enough for me. Who wants the kill?"

"Heh, how kind of you-" Straid began sarcastically.

Abruptly, Safiya flexed and snapped the dragon's neck.

"If you have time for glory-hounding, then you have time to explain what you know of this world. We have much of which to speak, now that I know you are no fool."


	8. Where the other drugs are going

"Through time, you say…?"

The outcast hexer Felkin was not one for socializing, especially with sorcerers or pyromancers. Still, Chaos had something of the Dark in it, and the prophet's story of the Father of the Abyss was too interesting to ignore.

"Yes. I will join the gathering of scholars. Find me in that manor's basement when the time comes."

With the dragon slain, Straid had no further interest in adventuring. He did, after some convincing, agree to stay _near_ Majula at least. Lex had left the Crown of the Sunken King with him to be studied. The Sunken Kingdom itself, he gave to the Rat King as promised. That left the Chaos Lords traveling alone again, so Safiya took the opportunity to grill Lex about the first time Chaos destroyed a kingdom and about the fate of the one she had left behind.

"Well, the real danger is Aldia, of course. That power drove the Witch – one of the original Lords – utterly mad, or else controlled her body. What sort of monster retains sanity and control after a transformation like that?"

The Sinner listened so intently that she hardly noticed when she split one horse with too many heads into two horses with too few legs. As it erupted into souls, Lex raised a hand.

"Hold on. I need to sneak up on someone. Wait until you hear shouting."

"If you insist."

Lex flexed his fingertips as tiny vines began to burrow up through the flesh. He jumped at the wall and quickly scampered up to the ceiling. From there, he rounded a corner and over a staircase. With only low-burning candles to light the chamber beyond, he passed unseen along the darkened ceiling, though his armor continued to jingle faintly. At the end of the room was a short figure in a blood-drenched crimson robe standing amidst the candles.

Seconds passed as the prophet took careful aim. In a flash, he shot a vine at the body and whipped it up to him.

"WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT PYROMANCY?!" he growled hoarsely.

"What is it?" the faceless doll said, bored. "What's it to you?"

Lex dropped the doll, then jerked it back up to him before it struck the ground.

"THE CHAOS FIREBALL! WHERE?!"

"You're no good. You haven't even tried to make me bleed."

Down the doll went again.

"SWEAR TO ME!"

"Your hands are clean as a babe's. I can smell it."

"Ah, forget this."

He dropped the doll and hopped down from the ceiling. Safiya had been waiting behind one of the pillars in the room. Now, she twisted around it, swinging. The flat of the blade hit the doll squarely in the chest as it dropped, and it nearly shattered against the wall.

"Answer the question, or you shall experience the depth of terror which only Chaos can produce."

The doll chuckled faintly, "Fantastic! You, _you_ have a lust for blood! Do you give yourself to Na-"

"Khorne," Lex interrupted.

"What?" the doll said.

"What?" Lex replied.

"Do you give yourself to Nahr-"

" _Khorne_."

"Na-"

" _KHOOOOOORNE_."

"The Blood God."

"Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

"You're really trying to make a nuisance of yourself, aren't you?"

"Fun fact: our gods hate each other."

"Focus, if you please. How do you plan on making him talk, Prophet?"

"I don't. It was worth a shot, but I figure he's probably just another animate doll from the Keep up ahead. There's some Chaos influence there as well. To be fair, there's just about nowhere in Drangleic that doesn't have some subtle Chaos influence, but there's legitimately a Chaos Storm scroll in the Keep."

"I see."

She lunged without hesitation, spiking the doll against the wall. An elegant twist carved up through its hollow chest and lopped off its head.

"Holy balls, that was brutal."

"No. The golem was right. You are too soft, Prophet."

"That's not what my wife says."

The Sinner refused to gratify that with a response. As they left the prison, she maintained her silence. It was not until they'd broken up a skeleton orgy and encountered a young woman seated on a shelf overlooking a misty valley that she spoke.

"Greetings. Have you any advice on traversing the valley yonder?"

"Are you a traveler?" the other woman asked. I am Chloanne, an orestone trader. I've been scouting around for rare bits. It's not as dangerous as it looks if you're careful and keep your head down. Though I imagine you might have a bit of a problem with that."

Chloanne tilted her head back, admiring the Old One's height. She turned when she heard the sound of jingling. Lex hurried up the hill. Safiya's long, unburdened stride got her places much more quickly than Lex's armored human legs.

"Doubly so, by the look of it," the merchant continued, wincing at the racket.

"It's fiiiiiiine," the prophet hummed. "You're the one who needs to be careful. Looks aside, you're nearly hollow."

"What…? I…"

"You're not just forgetful. The hollowing affects mind and body at different rates. Hurry to Majula. The blacksmith will help jog your memory."

"And who are you?"

"I am the prophet of Slaanesh. If you don't trust me, then trust the gods. No, wait, don't trust the gods. They're all scheming jerks. In any case, Majula's the gathering place of the Cursed and the only place you'll be able to reliably trade."

Chloanne frowned and pursed her lips.

"Well, I suppose it is about time I moved shop. And what of you?"

She nodded to Safiya.

"I am someone better forgotte-"

"First high priestess of Eleum Loyce. Since she's mopey like that, we've been calling her Safiya."

The Sinner frowned, but Chloanne covered her mouth as she chuckled.

"Well, let's meet again, Safiya, if we live that long."

The trader headed down the hill they had come, so the Chaos Lords continued into the valley.

"So basically, the strategy here is to sprint through while flipping everyone off."

Empowered as they were by the primal soul of Life, they didn't so much as stop to catch their breath. Safiya was forced to stop several times anyway as she was forced to wait for Lex to show her the way. For the most part, he was being careful with his use of Chaos flame. He didn't want to waste humanity on something like rocket skates just to get through a level more quickly. Regardless, after a brief detour to speak with a Gyrm trader, they swiftly made their way to the fog gate. and just as swiftly dealt with "Jabba the Hutt." As they ascended into the windmill beyond, Lex looked around anxiously.

"Lucatiel! Yo, Lucu Lucu! Lelouch Lamperouge! Ah, crap. There's no telling where she is now that she's off the rails."

"Were you expecting that woman to be here?" Safiya said dully.

"Well, kind of. The problem with my foreknowledge is that the more I use it to fix things, the less useful it becomes. And that's setting aside any blind spots it might have anyway."

"I see," the Sinner replied, her tone cold and clinical.

Lex silently wondered who put a Chaos bee in her bonnet, but he kept looking around instead of saying something to rile her up. Pate, at least, could be found in his usual spot. It took all the restraint Lex had not to kick him to the bottom of the windmill and all the strength he had to keep Safiya from doing it anyway. She had little patience for the criminal Gilligan either, former executioner as she was. Unfortunately, the prophet seemed to have business with him, so she was forced to let him live.

"A kingdom of rats, you say? Well, what's a little filth? I'm already up to my belly in poison hiding out here. As long as their lucre's good, they could be dragons for all I care. I'll 'ead to town straightaway."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Safiya began her verbal onslaught, "For what purpose did you let this one live? First the brigand you _know_ to be seeking your life, and now one whose crimes are by your own admission unknown to you."

"Hey, Gilligan's just greedy. He happens to have a skill we need right now, so I offered him a job. Even if he's a completely fake carpenter, he's got the right mindset. If we want to repair relations between humans and rats, we need two things: a way for them to get together and people who don't care about the smell. Besides, my wife is literally a mass murderer."

The Sinner clutched at her missing eye instinctively.

"Pardon me, but would you mind repeating that?"

"My wife spent centuries killing and possibly eating Undead who came to ring the Bell of Awakening. Including me."

"I already saw that you were soft, but that is _sickening_. What possible excuse could she have – no – what possible excuse could you make for her? Are you so enraptured by lust that you are numb to the suffering that a _genuine demon_ inflicted upon countless others?"

The Sinner's gaze was steely, icy, as harsh as the frozen wastes of Eleum Loyce.

"Look at it this way," the prophet sighed, "Dark Souls is a game about killing _everything_. There are some who you might not want to kill. They usually get killed by someone else. Sure, I've killed Petrus, and I've killed Lautrec. Countless times.

But that was a game. It's real now, and for real, they would die. Do they deserve it? Probably. But like Batman, it's not my decision to make, no matter how many times several dozen mass murderers break out of Arkham."

"Then whose decision is it to make? You are only pushing the hard choices onto others."

"That's a good question. Batman believes in democracy. I don't have quite so much faith in the masses, their elected representatives, or judges who work long past senility. Now, I'm from a world that has recently entered an age not of Flame or iron, but of information. We're building infrastructure to collect data – our laws and punishments will be decided based purely on evidence as to what will be most beneficial."

"You are avoiding the question. Who will adjudicate the use of this information?"

"Chaos Queen Laag."

"You would leave the judgment of criminals to a murderer?"

"Isn't that what you were doing?"

Both paused for a moment, facing off silently. At last, Lex grew uncomfortable with the quiet and began speaking again.

"Now, are Quelaag's killings justified? Probably not. But in all honesty, if dying to Quelaag time and time again was enough to hollow these Undead, they wouldn't have survived much longer anyway. Quelaag? She only had one life, and risked it facing enemy after enemy to cure her sister.

Is that selfish, compared to the Undead trying to rekindle the Flame and save the world? Absolutely. Or were these Undead only trying to cure themselves? Point is: despite all the prophecy junk, I'm not omniscient. I don't know _why_ people do what they do, so I try not to kill anyone. Even a Chaos-possessed self-professed Sinner."

The Old One snarled at him and kicked a hole in the side of the windmill.

"You… naive… arrogant… urgh! That kind of thinking will lead only to suffering."

"Eh, I already went hollow. I'm a Lord now; what's the worst that could happen? Oh, _right_! Something could happen to my wife! Like right now, where I'm in the far future, where's she's long dead! I think I have the power to be as naive as I please."

Smoke whirled off the top of the Sinner's shaved head as she tried to simmer down.

"So be it. We waste precious time arguing. What of that monster princess the criminal mentioned?"

"We save her if she's sane."

"And if she is not?"

"Cosmetics tend to be _very_ flammable."


	9. Love is a Myth(a)

"Yo, Mytha, how's it hanging! You know, like your head? … I'm sorry, that was awful."

As the last word left his lips, he dodged quickly to the side as a massive iron spike shot right at him.

"So anyway, I'm Lex, King-Consort of Izalith. Right now, we've got a bit of a low population, so we're looking to expand. Would you be interested in working something out?"

The _fleur-de-lis_ shaped polearm swung back at him, but he simply fell to the ground, catching himself before he broke his nose.

"On a side note, that servant or whoever that stuck around after everyone else left or died? We kind of killed him."

The spear sparked against the stone floor.

"He was still…? I ordered that fool to leave!"

The Baneful Queen was a woman of statuesque beauty: long, straight features, curves in all the right places, and utterly nude. Of course, this was all balanced by being a headless snake woman bent on bloody murder. A necklace of miscellaneous bones hung about her infected neck hole, and she carried her own severed head by its long, auburn hair.

"Actually, he had a thing for you, apparently, but in the end, he loved food more."

"Only I may speak ill of my retainers!"

The Queen wound back on her long tail and lunged forward with the spear again. Lex rolled past it and ducked behind her.

"Did you not just monologue about your vision of justice?" Safiya huffed, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. "What was all that drivel about not killing criminals? You did not so much as try to stop me from slaying anything in this tower. Nay! You helped merrily."

"Even with my power, there's no way of easily constraining really big monsters," Lex argued back as he dodged a tail lash. "Had Quelaag been here, we could have done it easily. The dragon too. They were both beyond reason and both blocked the path forward."

"As far as your 'prophetic' knowledge can tell."

"…shit, I could have scaled the side of the building."

Lost in thought, Lex was caught off-guard. The Queen wrapped the end of her tail around one foot and flipped him up into the air. Coils of solid muscle hooped overhead and crushed his arms against his body.

"You will suffer before I grant you the mercy of death!"

"A little personal space, Your Grace! I'm a married man!"

The severed head's eyes had remained blank and dead even after Lex had angered her into speaking. Now, however, they flickered to life. A sickening, poisonous green burned in them.

" _Don't you dare!_ "

She jerked her body rigid, and the human's bones shattered. He gurgled as blood from his ruptured organs flooded into his air passages.

"Oh god, that one actually hurt…" he wheezed.

Now, she twisted in the opposite directly, physically tearing his body apart.

"Nonononono…"

His armor made a racket as it clattered to the floor. While the breastplate was too resilient to be damaged by anything less than the Sinner's sword, it was easy enough to rip apart the flesh underneath. Part of Lex's torso fell out of the plates, alongside one arm and the lower halves of both legs.

"Oh, screw me sideways," he gasped as he tried to drag himself away with his one arm.

Safiya still made no move to help.

"If dying to Mytha time and time again is enough to hollow this Undead, he wouldn't have survived much longer anyway. Right?"

"Oh, that's just being a dick…"

The Queen stabbed through Lex's connected arm, pinning it to the floor. He gurgled incomprehensibly.

"Marriage!" the snake woman hissed. "As if it meant anything! We try and we try and we try and we try and we try _and we try and we try!_ But they don't care! You just hate me because I'm hideous! Something like marriage wouldn't stop you!"

Her final shrieks done, she yanked her weapon back and set her head back onto her shoulders. Her other hand free, she grabbed Lex by the hair, his breastplate dangling uselessly under him. She choked up on the polearm's grip and ran the outer blade across the prophet's neck. The last of his body fell away, and his expression froze.

"This is the fate of all who see my hideous form! Do not return, Undead!"

"Actually, a lot of people have a lamia fetish."

The Queen jumped as the head suddenly sprung back to life. As her grip loosened, Lex's head shot forward and knocked her own head off her body. The pair of them hit the ground and rolled.

"Owowowow! But ha! Now we can fight on even terms!"

"Impossible!"

"Improbable! In any case, I lied."

Spider legs sprouted from his neck, while the disconnected pieces of his body took on lives of their own and piled onto the Queen's own body. As she struggled to fling them off, the Chaos Lord's head skittered forward. He grabbed some of Mytha's hair in his teeth and began to drag her toward a corner of the room.

"Monster! Beast! What are you planning?"

"Mmphmm!"

He spat out her hair.

"Okay, first of all, I am a demon – not just a common monster. I became a demon _to help my wife_ , who is also a demon but inherited more power than she could control. Her entire lower body is a spider. A whole spider. Not just the legs.

It's like letting the dog sleep with you. Except it's like letting the dog _sleep_ with you. Look at me. There was nothing you could have done to fix things. It was a… poisonous relationship."

Mytha's shriek of rage was accompanied by a soul spear that sent Lex's head smashing into the wall.

"Okay, I deserved that."

"He was mine. He was always mine. It was the best match. Everyone agreed. We were both so lovely together."

Mytha's eyes were going dull again as her voice trailed off.

"There were politics. There are always politics. But oh, how I loved him. That smile. That smile! That smile that he only showed _her_!"

Her eyes burned with a terrible emerald radiance.

"I wasn't beautiful enough! I wasn't beautiful anymore! I was too old! Too withered! It was my fault we never conceived!"

In her fury, Lex's dismembered body couldn't hold hers back any longer. As the lamia charged the pair of heads on coils of raw muscle, Lex quickly grabbed Mytha's hair again and blasted away on a jet of flame from his neck stump. He chuckled as he swerved back and forth, always staying just out of reach. At last, his own reassembled body flipped through the air and reattached itself with a burst of flame.

"And I'll form the head!"

As he skidded to a stop, he let Mytha's head drop into one hand. As her body tried to spear him, he ducked inside the blow and put the head back in its rightful place.

"The prince of Alken is long dead. You can stay in these ruins until the poison keeping you young runs dry or you can move on."

"No! You're lying! There's no way-!"

"The whole damned castle sank! His dad was an idiot. My castle's near lava too, and you don't see that sinking."

"You're lying to throw me off! Demon! Deceiver!"

"Mytha, Alken fell so long ago that that Drangleic not only stopped raiding its ruins, but it has _also_ fallen. You were so focused on staying young that you didn't notice how much time had passed."

"I…"

She swallowed hard.

"Was he… happy?"

"Even imprisoned, he found a means of communicating with the Princess of Venn. As to whether they were happy… well, even I can't say. Perhaps their puppets will be more talkative. I can take you there."

Her toxic eyes burned into his, but even the mightiest of poisons was only an aspect of Life. The Chaos behind Lex's eyes caused her to look away quickly. It wasn't that he telling the truth – he was a being for which truth itself was flexible.

"Please, I… Whatever is left of him, I wish to see it."

"Now we add a mad tyrant who created servants only to decapitate them," the Sinner huffed. "So be it. I've wasted more than enough time entertaining your ideals, Prophet. Let us be off to this land of Alken."

"Actually, it's Venn. Alken is where you were hanging out."

"Explain this."

"It gives me a headache, actually. I _think_ Alken was invading Venn at the time of Irontanic. Because the Prince of Alken made the Bell of Venn in Venn, but he's also apparently the Prince of Venn. And the 'Mad Warrior of Alken' (or an imitator) is in Venn."

Mytha sighed.

"It was a succession crisis. Both kingdoms were founded by the same man and were split between his two sons. Generations later, the kings each named their eldest child ruler to the opposite land and fought to press the claim. Both opposed the meeting of the Prince and Princess, as their union would represent a reuniting of the bloodlines and the kingdoms. Only, the Princess' father fell in battle.

Alken had fallen on hard times. With the great warrior Alonne, he took the outlands of Venn and built the Keep beyond as an outpost from which to continue his conquest. It was then that I wed the Prince, to keep him from the Princess and legitimizing any rebellion."

"Mm. Works for me. Still, you never had a chance, did you?"

The Baneful Queen waved her spear menacingly.

"I don't need your pity, Undead."

With that, she slithered toward the far end of the room as the fog began to clear. Safiya followed after, still annoyed with him. He threw his arms up in exasperation.

"It's almost enough to make me miss Beatrice. Almost."


	10. Double your daily recommended iron value

"Did we just take an elevator up from the top of a windmill to the heart of a volcano several miles distant?"

"Spatial contraction is used without really being noticed in most modern games. After all, a whole city in reality would be larger than most game maps. However, they also added significant spatial folding points in Drangleic. They wanted the country to look big and varied, but instead, they just caused headaches."

"I believe I understand."

"I don't, and I don't care!" Mytha hissed. "Why are neither of you bothered that the grandest keep in history is slowly sinking into lava?"

"Eh, I've seen grander."

"As have I."

"Yeah, Eleum Loyce is huge. You should have seen Anor Londo, though. The city built by the only Great Lord? Beautiful."

Still, the Iron Keep was a stately fortress. Gryphon statues stood guard on either side of the entrance, and ahead was a wide bridge. A stone angel hovered silently atop the entry arch even as it leaned further and further toward one side in its slow decent into the fiery moat. Indeed, the heat from the lake of lava just beyond the red-hot iron railings was almost unbearable. Mytha, being coldblooded, was quickly heating up and fruitlessly wiped at a brow incapable of sweating.

While the other two were intruders, this was the Baneful Queen's second home. She wasted no time in slithering across the bridge alone. The hollowed knights that remained attacked her mindlessly, but her powerful tail swept them aside. The Chaos Lords quickly hurried after her. Beyond the entry hall was a vast courtyard that had been thoroughly flooded with lava.

The hollow knight-captains unleashed a hail of greatarrows on the exposed walkway. Mytha kept low to the ground and wound left and right around the falling spikes. Each knight she came across was quickly hip-checked into the lava. The platform at the end of the walkway was too high for a human to reach, but it proved no trouble for the lamia, who simply reared up on her enormous tail and threw the captain into the fire. She whipped up onto that platform and from there, to the next walkway, disappearing into the deeper keep beyond.

"Safiya, keep after her!" Lex barked as he broke off to the right.

There was a bridge intended to connect the walkways on the left and right walls, but it was suspended far in the air. Lex jumped below it and flicked a vine out of his wrist. He caught the bridge and took a long swing over the courtyard. Lucatiel was still conspicuously absent, so he continued straight through the fog at the end of the walkway. On the other side was a circular chamber.

At its center was an enormous statue of half-melted black iron. Though human-shaped, it had the hooves and horns of a bull. Its face was a slagged hole, and in one of its crossed arms was a slab of steel that roughly resembled a sword. As he approached it, the golem sprung to life, its open torso filling with roaring flame. It stomped toward him, swinging its sledge with impossible agility.

"Sorry, but facing me of all people is just bad luck!"

 _Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto_

 _Mata au hi made_

 _Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto_

 _Himitsu wo shiritai_

"Now, give me your body!"

The golem staggered. It was a mad thing, animated by magic beyond its creator's feeble control. Still, it was a work of divine magic, and Lex was among the most powerful clerics to have lived. The prophet had learned the secret paths of golem control from the god of machines; he held the blessing of the Dark Sun. Moreso, the madness of the flame bowed to the greater insanity of Chaos.

The Smelter Demon fell to one knee with a thunderous clang. Lex grabbed hold of the twisting spine that jutted from its right pauldron and swung up onto its back. Looking behind, he noted the size of the other exit. There was no way the enormous golem could fit through either door. Perhaps it had been brought in in pieces. He shrugged.

"Smelterbot, transform and roll out!"

The iron behemoth rose again and turned to face the grated wall around the inner doorway. It approached at a steady pace, and when it reached the barrier, it didn't so much as slow. The lesser metal bent and tore as the impossibly heavy construct walked straight into it. The stairs leading to the next room were likewise too small, so it bent them apart and hauled itself up as if climbing a ladder. At the top, the doorway was again too small, the stone of the fortress firmly blocking its path.

"Oh yeah!" Lex yelled for the first time in literal ages as the golem burst through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man.

He lit the bonfire as he stormed through and skidded around to demolish the next doorway. Mytha had done all the work in clearing out the level, so he merely had to rush through to catch her before she got one-shotted by the Old Iron King. The narrow hanging platforms were uncomfortable but hardly a real danger. The narrow tunnel with the falling blade was more of a problem. The iron plates that fortified the walls ripped away with a horrible screeching as the Smelter Demon plowed through, boring straight through the tunnel with a combination of intense heat and brute strength.

The flame-blowing iron bull's heads on the other side posed no problem at all to the burning juggernaut, which simply continued onward. As it stepped onto the shingled rooftop beyond, it encountered only a minor problem. Its weight was too great, so it began to slide down the slope, which quickly deposited it on the crumbling stone pathway below. In the distance, the lake began to churn. In the shadow of the tallest volcano, the last ruins of the city which had supported the keep were washed away by waves of lava.

The surface burst, and an enormous beast rose from the depths. Its face was like a dragon's, but its body was humanoid. Bovine horns crowned its head, and enormous spined wings cast a shadow over the molten stone. Its skin was cracked and bled magma, and the earth thundered as it waded through the lake toward the ruins. Mytha screamed in rage, and Lex caught a glimpse of a soul spear breaking against the monster's burning flesh.

As the Smelter Demon stormed across the path, Safiya jumped onto the creature, her Chaos-scorched feet nearly immune to the heat. She dragged her blade along its arm, spewing lava from the wound. Instead of passing through the fog wall, Lex broke through the stone wall beside it in his hurry.

"You went the wrong way! There was a hidden passage to the prince's prison!" he said quickly, before either of his companions could react.

"Is that not because you ran off alone without any explanation?" Safiya shouted back.

The Sinner did an acrobatic flip back onto the platform as the monster swatted at her.

"It's fine!" Mytha snarled. "I won't be satisfied until I've repaid the King for all he's done. He may have become a monster as well, but I'd recognize that self-satisfied smirk anywhere."

As she said that, the Old Iron King stooped over and belched fire across the short platform. Safiya jumped onto his lowered head and drove her blade into its thick skull. Mytha quickly sprung up the side of the shattered wall and screamed out another soul spear. Lex and his golem stomped forward, the animating soul giddy with the thought of killing its creator a second time.

"Armor of Wildfire! Dao Jin!"

The Smelter Demon's disconnected body parts stretched in every direction. Lex quickly swung himself off its shoulder and down into the central flame. In a flurry, the parts snapped back into position. As the Iron King's attack washed over the golem, its clawed fingers clenched, and its broken face peeled back.

"Venn Pattern Tactical Dreadnought Armor, ready! Children of the Emperor! Death to his foes!"

The enormous fist of the Old One hammered down on the unmoving figure, and there was a resounding crack. After a long moment, the arm shot backward, palm bleeding fire.

"Where's your axe, taurus demon?"

It swept at Lex sidelong, but he merely stepped into the attack, hacking off its hand with the Smelter Sword's golf swing. Not to be outdone, Safiya took a step back and took a steady stance atop its horn. She dropped herself with tremendous force, driving her blade through the Iron King's eye. The enormous creature roared in agony and staggered backward. Mytha would not let two mere trespassers resolve her toxic grudge.

She coiled, then lunged at her father-in-law. She thrust her trident into the other eye with all her weight, then slung her tail around with the momentum. The constricting strength that could break a Lord's bones tore into the Old One's neck, squeezing tighter and tighter as the Baneful Queen's rage boiled over.

"Now even you realize how blind you are!" she shrieked, poison spittle spraying from her mouth.

The bull monster reached for its throat, but Lex held its remaining hand back with the tremendous mass of the Smelter armor.

"How could you imprison your own son? Why did you let him get so close to her? Why did you let him? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you even choose me? Why? Why? _Why? Why? WHY?_ "

"Mytha, I don't think he can-"

Now, even the great strength of Gwyn's inheritor failed, and the Old Iron King collapsed limply to the platform.

"Mytha, you can sto-"

Poison tears dripped down her face. Even as she strangled the enormous monster, she slashed at it with her claws.

" _Why?_ "

The Sinner didn't seem to be interested. Instead, she was watching Lex intently. He met her gaze.

"Right. Ahem. The jury has reached a verdict. We hereby find the defendant guilty of unlawful imprisonment, cruel and unusual punishment, war crimes, and crimes against humanity."

"What a sham," Safiya huffed.

Between the poison and the strangulation, the Old Iron King at last gave up the ghost. The two women dropped to the platform amidst the flood of souls. Exhausted, Mytha slumped so her head rested on the ground. The Sinner was largely unfazed and simply tucked her sword into her belt.

"Come on," Lex said gently, stooping over Mytha in his Smelter armor and extending a hand. "It's over now. You're in no shape to see those stupid gnomes right now, so we'll take you to the Belfry later. Safiya," he said, turning his head, "take Mytha to the rats."

" _Rats?_ " Mytha coughed, trying to gag while still crying.

"They won't judge you if you don't judge them. And they might actually appreciate your poison. You can stay with them for now. The Prince's legacy is… not in the best shape. It's better that you don't see it for now."

She only hissed at first, but after a moment, she weakly agreed, " _Fine_."

"Right, Safiya, make sure she gets there and doesn't eat them or anything. I'm going to move on. The next one is considered one of the hardest bosses in the series. The last time I fought something on this level, I had a solid party of Undead with me. You've only got one life, and I'd rather not risk it on doing DLC early."

The Sinner looked at him. It was a different experience. Normally, she was quite a bit taller, but wearing a giant monster caused him to have a much higher eye line. She snorted.

"If you insist."

All three of them proceeded through the building Lex had knocked down during his entrance. Though the stairs would have been a tight squeeze for the monstergirls, the Smelter armor simply plowed through the walls as easily as before. The prophet waved dumbly as his companions vanished into the primal bonfire, then continued to the serpent shrine in the room beyond. Through great iron doors and up an elevator, he stood on a balcony overlooking a grand tower. A mighty storm whipped about it, its white flakes not snow but ash.

"They have taken you from the Imperial City's prison, first by carriage and now by boat, to the east – to Morrowind. Fear not, for I am watchful. You have been Chosen."

The next set of stairs was actually wide enough that he could fit without issue. At the top, a squad of Drangleic soldiers lay covered in ash. They had died as humans, and their corpses were preserved in the dust forevermore. At the end of the platform sat a squat pile of ash, vaguely shaped like a woman. A bundle of iron rods jutted out of her chest.

Lex jerked them out unceremoniously, causing the delicate form to crumble. A faint shred of a soul drifted out of the ash, and he awkwardly stuffed both of them into his exposed belt pouches, which were fortunately made from fireproof demon leather. The path ahead was… stupid. The central tower ahead and all the lesser towers surrounding it were connected not by bridges of any normal sort.

Rather, they were connected by enormous lengths of chain, which had long since rusted solid. The question remained as to why chain of such size existed to begin with, as a single link was larger than the Old Iron King's monstrous fists. Nevertheless, he carefully made his way across and lit the bonfire. The way down was long and treacherous, so he skipped it. The complex array of industrial technology which Undead would use as an elevator system was inactive, but a fatal fall for an Undead was not the same as a fatal fall for a flame-spewing golem armor.

"I. AM. IRON. MAN."

He bounced down stopped elevators and buckets of ore that had been hanging so long their chains were immovable. Soon, he came upon iron knights like those that defended fallen Heide, but on the scale of the Old Iron King's monstrous form. These too, he used as platforms, dropping down to the main level. Here, he lit another bonfire before continuing down. The cry of iron against iron rang out again and again as he leapt from hanging golem to hanging golem.

In no time at all, he had reached the bottom of the tower. The floor couldn't be seen for the enormous volume of ash that had filtered from above. The center of the chamber was occupied by the ruined body of a knight golem so large that it was nearly the size of the giant sentinel in the incorrectly scaled painting in Anor Londo. Looking into it from one of the myriad holes on top, he could see a black, rough-hewn monolith standing up in the ash. He quickly hopped off and lit a bonfire in a side chamber.

Lex glanced at the fallen golem hesitantly. There were two Ashen Idols like the one he'd encountered at the giant chain near holes in the armor. Likewise, there were another two on the other side. He needed to destroy them with the smelter wedges the Drangleic soldiers had so conveniently left for him. Rather, he was supposed to do that.

He rushed past the golems hidden beneath the ash and entered the body of the ruined knight through its gorget. Even the fog wall here was corrupted by the black fumes the machines had belched while they were active, but he passed through it regardless. As he approached the ash-covered slab near the far end, a vortex of blackest soot appeared around it. The prophet held his breath, half-expecting Velka to reveal she was behind everything. Instead, the Fume Knight appeared as he always did, so the Chosen Undead breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"Raime!"

The enormous human dragged himself out of the ash, taking up the cursed monolith that called itself a sword. In his right hand was the shining sword he had once pledged to Drangleic, now tarnished as the rest of this place. His armor was pitch black, save where the edges had been worn silver by the abrasive particles which drifted through even the stagnant air at the bottom of the shaft. His forearms were wholly unarmored, showing Undead flesh charred black.

"Raime, I'm here to talk!"

The Fume Knight hardly seemed to care, hefting the larger sword onto one shoulder and leading with a flurry of swipes from the lighter blade. The powerful hooves of the Smelter Demon shot Lex out of danger in a flash, and he kicked forward again, hammering the Smelter Sword with an arc of Chaos flame. Unprepared for such an attack, the Fume Knight spun in place, flinging the slab off his shoulder to intercept. Molten iron clanged against volcanic stone in a sparking clash that sent both weapons wild. Seeing the opening, Raime ducked under his own blade, stabbing at Lex with his smaller sword.

The prophet wasn't there to receive the blow. He'd jumped again, twisting into a standing dropkick. Both monsters collapsed in a puff of ash, though Lex regained his feet faster. He smashed the Smelter Sword overhead again and again. Each attack missed but kept the Fume Knight rolling through the debris as he tried to avoid the deadly blows.

At last, they came close to a wall, and Raime thrust his sword backward to propel himself to his feet. He took one final swing across Lex's vulnerable torso with his smaller sword before sheathing it. His full attention now to the use of his more powerful weapon, he took a more aggressive stance. The heavy blade still rested on his shoulder, but he held it taut instead of letting it slump. The faintest pressure could spring the readied blade forward.

The cleric took a step back but no more. His own sword was far too short to give any more ground. The Fume Knight swept the enormous stone with impossible speed. Fortunately, the Smelter Demon was likewise unreasonably agile, and he was able to hurdle over the attack. It was a feint, however, as the Knight raised the cursed slab up high with the momentum.

It shuddered with Fire and Dark, alighting with the peculiar energy that had once belonged to the Lord of Cinder. Lex immensely regretted not testing to see what spells would work while inside the suit. Still, he had one in mind that couldn't possibly fail.

 _Faster than a_ _lasbolt!_

 _Terrifying scream_ _!_

 _He's fueled by coke and_ _metal!_

 _He is Daemon and machine!_

 _He's the Daemon biker!_

 _Breathing coke and fire_ _!_

 _Summoned by the cultists, he is nigh_ _!_

 _He! Is! The! Doom-ri-der!_

 _This! Is! The! Doom-ri-der_ _!_

The greatest honor the Dark Gods of of the forty-first millennium could bestow upon a mortal champion was to destroy their human flesh and moliate their soul into a onceborn daemon prince. Most of these transformations led only to lives of dull self-indulgence. A few among these yet still haunted the battlefields of that wretched galaxy, but among the princes of the Lord of Excess, there was one name chanted by even those who weren't otherwise interested in the franchise. This would have been terribly impressive had the spell actually succeeded. No matter how vaguely the immense volume of ash might resemble the cocaine mountains outside Slaanesh's palace, the motorcycle Sen had built the prophet remained in Lordran.

The blade of Dark Flame lurched toward him, and all he could do was slam the Smelter Sword against it to keep the Fume Knight from cutting him in half. It didn't matter how durable his armor was if it left his midsection completely vulnerable to attack. He staggered from the blow, nearly dropping the sword. Raime didn't wait for him to regain his footing and swept his foot out, using the weight of his own sword to spin around for an attack from the opposite side. The upper and lower halves of the Smelter Demon remained unfazed, but Lex's organs sprayed red across the gray ash.

Unfortunately, since he had long ago sacrificed his Player Character inventory to keep Velka sealed, everything he was carrying went hurtling into the ash as well. He and Raime stared at each other for a moment, then dove headlong into the dust. Though Lex had reacted first, the Fume Knight seemed satisfied, clutching his prize to his breast with one hand while waving his sword defensively. It was the tiny fragment of soul Lex had collected after passing through the serpent shrine. The prophet himself smirked and revealed his own claim.

The soul of the Old Iron King shone with a harsh light, like a burning jewel.

"I said, I'm here to talk. As you just saw, you can't kill me, so you might as well listen to what I have to say."

The Fume Knight smashed his sword into the ash. There was a burst of light, and orbs of black-red power spiraled out around him. His armor too big to fit between the orbs, Lex was forced to shield himself with the Smelter Sword again.

"You're being a total Velstadt!"

Raime's sword quivered in his grip.

" ** _WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY_** _?!_ " he thundered like the Lord of Sunlight himself.

"I don't know _exactly_ what you two were fighting over, but he clearly should have listened to you since he and Vendrick have been hiding out in _tomb_ for the past several decades. Brokeback Mausoleum."

The Fume Knight smashed his sword into the ash again. This time, it didn't unleash a firestorm.

"From the Queen, right?" he snarled.

"Yeah…" Lex sighed. "I'm slowly making my way there now. Very indirectly."

Raime chuckled. His laughter was was only spiteful at first, but it soon grew into a mad cackling. Clearly, the long exposure to the Dark was playing havoc with his emotions.

"How pathetic a man, to hide from his own wife! How wretched a King to cower for fear of the Dark, like a child! You don't know, so I'll tell you what that Velstadt – what that 'Royal Aegis' did! It was _his_ counsel to abandon the kingdom! We were all shocked to learn the Queen was not human!

It was _clear as day_ that she had manipulated _weak Vendrick_ into attacking the giants! So what?! The cost was great, but Drangleic became even greater for it! Vendrick was soft! He took a _foreigner_ as his guard; _surely_ , he could _speak with his_ ** _own wife!_**

 ** _No._** Velstadt got in his ear. His _poisonous_ resentment for his previous Queen blinded him. Oh so weak Vendrick would do nothing but waste away if Velstadt and I didn't decide on a plan for him. Clearly, we had opposite purposes, so there could be only option.

My strength of arms failed me. I came here in search of the strength of a mightier King. I found so much more."

"Nadalia. Can she hear us, split like that? Trying to understand what she's whispering gives me a migraine."

"Don't you _dare_ speak her name, intruder! But _yes_ ," Raime said plainly, calming down. "Still, her thoughts are a bit… hmph… scattered."

"Aww, yeah! High five!"

"No."

"Well okay then. I've got a bit more than half of the smelter wedges that can destroy her Idols and the soul of the Old Iron King. I need his Crown."

"I don't care what you 'need.' How did you come across the soul of someone long-dead? _More importantly_ , you already destroyed one Idol, and you seem to know what they are. How can we trust you?"

"I've worked with someone like Na-"

The Fume Knight glared at him.

"-the Bride of Ash before, though she was human originally. As much as I hate to bargain for someone's keepsake, the Crown is more important than anyone realizes. The Four Kings originally worked together, though they were born again in different eras. If can collect their Crown which represent all they learned, those who wear them can harness the Curse."

"A pleasant dream."

"More than a dream – a prophecy."

"I am _not_ overfond of _clerics,_ " Raime snarled.

"To answer your questions, I got the wedges and the fragment of Nadalia's soul from some Drangleic soldiers. You were followed, Raime. As for the Old Iron King, he survived, in a form. His daughter-in-law recently joined me in my travels, and it seems she had a bit of a grudge. Even if I could have saved him, I don't think we could have restored his reason."

The Fume Knight was silent and unmoving. A horrible, scratching whisper dug at Lex's ears.

"My Queen finds your reasons acceptable. Give me the soul and the wedges, and you will have your precious Crown."

"Sure," the prophet said confidently. "But if you double-cross me here, I'll say all sorts of nasty things about it to Alsanna."

The whispering because a screeching wail.

"I am _nothing_ if not faithful to my word."

Lex nodded and handed over the soul without hesitation. It took him a while to find all the wedges scattered in the ash amongst his other gear, but it only really took as long as it did because he was too air-headed to remove the Smelter suit. As Raime left the chamber to retrieve the Crown, Lex futilely attempted to pick up his rings with the golem's indelicate claws. Soon enough, the Fume Knight returned with the oppressive headgear in hand. Though it was an oppressive mass of iron on a human head, it looked child-sized compared to the two enormous figures.

"That's two down," Lex said as he hung the Crown on one of the Smelter Demon's pointless spikes. "Say, Raime, we're starting to put together a bit of an alliance. How would you be interested in firing up the furnaces and having a hand in reforging the world?"


	11. Life in plastic, it's fantastic

"Bearer of the Curse… you are no monarch yet. You seek power in allies, but your own soul languishes."

"Languish is a little harsh, isn't it? Haven't you ever heard 'XP is a river'? The cost-benefit ratio is greater spending souls on equipment than on yourself. Just the same, choosing to recruit my enemies instead of farming them for souls is a more worthwhile investment"

"I find myself torn," Safiya murmured. "As much as I'd like to insult the prophet, I cannot find fault in his actions. He plays with fire in myriad ways, yet he's avoided burning himself thus far."

"Ha!"

"Thus far, I said. To what sort of nightmare have I awoken? For the hero of the land to be a demon who makes alliances with talking rats and _things_ of the Dark – madness in purest form."

"Whoa, hold on there. We're not in Yharnam yet."

The Sinner rolled her eyes. There was a racket in the background as Gilligan supervised the construction of an elaborate system of ramps into the pit in the center of town. Lenigrast was hard at work forging the metal components while Saulden sawed away at the wooden beams and planks. All of the actual assembling was performed by the belfry puppets.

"For the Queen, forever, for true!

In Shulva! The bell! Of the Princess!

In Majula! The bell! Of the Prince!

Build the path strong, build the path proud!

Gather around and ring the bell loud!"

Lex wasn't exactly sure how she'd done it, but Mytha managed to steal both bells and charm the puppets into serving her instead. The Bell of Alken now hung in a makeshift belfry atop the Majula Manor while the Bell of Venn graced the peak of the Sanctum City's main pyramid. Once it had been established that Mytha wasn't going to eat the rats despite being a snake, they were grateful for the gift. Now, she and the Rat King were bonding over their respective betrayals by human princes.

"Hi ho, hi ho, off to work we go…" Lex snickered. "Speaking of which, I spoke with the Rat King. I'd left messages with him and with Gavlan. Boom!"

He flicked open a scroll with unfamiliar characters on it.

"Treaty with the Gyrm. Free passage through the Doors of Pharros."

The Emerald Herald looked up coldly from her rigid position atop the boulder.

"The King harnessed the power of the Great Souls when he built Drangleic. He suppressed the other peoples of the land through strength of arms. Bearer of the Curse, I will remain by your side, but do not mistake rallying broken tribes for your own strength."

"There is no pleasing you, is there? Quelaag is just tsundere – you're outright cold. Let that sink in. You're more abrasive than a woman who's constantly on fire and fused to a giant spider. I bet you write angsty poetry while the various Bearers of the Curse go out and gather souls for you. Actually, you know what?

This is a great opportunity. What is the plot here? The entire quest for the Throne seems to be nothing but a petty catfight between you and Nashandra. This is the fantasy version of Mean Girls, isn't it?"

"Did someone say catfight?" the most sexually-inappropriate voice in all Drangleic purred. "I was waiting for you to come on your own time, but I decided to take matters into my own hands… or paws, as the case happens to be."

Indeed, the voice of an alluring woman was coming from the quite-too-small voicebox of a satisfied-looking tabby cat.

"You may call me Shalquoir. Enchanté."

"Lex. Likewise pleased. I was about to head over to buy your Ring of Whispers."

"Ah, I find myself premature. I have the goods if you have the payment."

"Actually, now that I think about it, I'll take the Name-Engraved Ring as well. The ones I want to make contact with don't have rings of their own, but knowing someone with the same name as the god of dreams might work just as well. You seem to know quite a bit Shalquoir. Do you know whether that so-called god is the son of the Witch of Fire?"

The cat smiled, which was rather unsettling.

"Oh, it's rare to meet someone who knows such things."

"Of course. I married the Witch's second Daughter, after all."

"A wild story, but it explains your intoxicating scent. A smoky, earthy flavor that burns and threatens to devour my senses. The will of a Monarch, blended with Chaos… C'est magnifique!"

The Sinner grimaced at the prospect of another actually impressed by Chaos.

"Oh my, but business to complete, yes?" Shalquoir said, shaking her head to focus.

"Yep. Khajiit has wares if you have coin."

"Why do I have the impression that's a very rude statement?"

"Khajiit is innocent of this crime."

"Yes, you're definitely mocking me somehow."

"I'm sorry," Lex said in a tone that didn't sound very sorry at all, "but the last talking cat I met didn't have a sense of humor at all, so I'm trying to get all the jokes out of my system. Seeing as how you both know things that only the highest gods are supposed to know, are you in any way related to Alvina of Darkroot, formerly of Oolacile?"

"Oh la vache! That is a name I haven't heard in a _long_ time."

"Why the surprise? I already said I lived in that era. Up until a few hours ago, no less."

The cat tilted her head and sighed sensuously.

"I said that your story made sense – not that I believed it. Cats have long memories, spanning many lifetimes. We keep to ourselves more than you humans, but we don't forget our history of living alongside you. The elder Alvina lived her last life ages ago, when I was only an impressionable kitten. I know her stories by heart.

It makes it funny when I see humans making the same mistakes, but it is also sad. Your people have forgotten their own mistakes – and their own heroism."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. We're hitting the Eternal Return like the attack button in a Dynasty Warriors game."

"The Eternal Return, you say? I am not familiar, nor am I with the game you mentioned."

"Well, the game doesn't matter. It's just something where you press the same button several dozen times a minute."

"That sounds dreadful."

"That's not the point. In any case, the Eternal Return is the notion that time is cyclical, and that the same events will happen again and again. On the surface, this seems obvious, what with there always being four Lords or Great Ones. But it's not about the souls – it's about the events themselves. Safiya – the Ivory King and the Loyce Knights are a recurrence of Gwyn and his Silver Knights, even though Gwyn's soul isn't involved."

That caught the Sinner's attention. She stopped staring into space and actually turned to listen.

"Or that was supposed to be the case. Thing is, Gwyn won against the Chaos. Something _changed_. The world has decayed since then. The Ivory King is weaker than Gwyn, but the Chaos should be too. Instead, it actually looks _stronger_."

Safiya grasped his shoulder firmly.

"Do you fear it is more than you can control?" she rumbled.

Lex took a breath.

"Maybe. The original was too much for my wife, which is why I took half of the soul. I'm stronger now, but I'm not sure how much power I can take. You and I will need to work with Alsanna to plan for the worst. Best case scenario, we use it to summon my entire extended family and divide it among all of us."

"What if that does not happen? What plan do you have in case it is only the two of us to contain the Chaos? Already, I am at my limit, and you do not know your own."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I mean, I'm not just gathering all these sorcerers because I have a beard fetish. They'll be able to think of something to do if we can't handle it."

"Ah, yes," Safiya said, smiling sarcastically, "these wise men who will work together for the good of the world. Nevermind that they've spent however long living alone as selfish hermits."

Lex rolled his head back and sighed.

"It doesn't hurt to try, and we only really need one anyway. We're going to grab him next, assuming he's not _completely_ insane by now. If he is, Plan B is literally down the hall."

"You seem to have a plan for everything. Hope for your own sake that one works."

"BECAUSE I'M BATMAN!" Lex growled. "CATWOMAN, THE RINGS!"

"Oh! I was caught up in your conversation. Allow me to fetch them for you."

The cat scampered off to her house, and Lex scratched his chin. Figuring out how this new country was going to work with humans, talking rats, and talking cats would be a nightmare. Not to mention all the various monsters who weren't subject to the power of the Chaos Lord. Shalquoir returned, and he exchanged the souls for them without a second thought, even as Shanalotte scowled. With that, he and Safiya set off toward the east, the former carrying a small bag over his shoulder.

They passed through the great ruined gate of Majula and entered a ravine opposite. After a short distance, Safiya was forced to stoop under a smaller entrance to a half-buried tower and once more as they exited. They came upon another broken tower, this one standing in the fading sunlight. There was a swordsman resting some distance from the entrance. He glanced up from beneath his helmet and tensed for a fight but waited for them to make the first move.

Lex scowled and ignored him, continuing into the tower. Again, the Old One was forced to duck her head as they entered.

"Ambush," the prophet said, bored.

He flicked his fingers one way and the other, shooting blasts of Chaos flame that arced through the air. The embers easily passed through the grated doors which held the prisoners that had once been human. The horrid creatures shrieked as one as the fire of Life put them out of their misery. The exit ahead was sealed by a sturdy door, and a petrified woman held tight on the switch to open it. Lex pulled a petrified branch from one of his pouches and snapped it beneath her nose.

She unpetrified violently, falling over and coughing up stray bits of stone mucus. Once she had realized what happened, she quickly stood up and dusted herself off. Of course, there wasn't much to dust off – her gown was so filthy and tattered that there was no telling how it used to look. Her skin was a rich toffee color, aside from a chalk-white tattoo of an eye on her forehead. Long black hair flowed down just beyond her shoulders.

"Th-th…Thank…thank you…" she coughed. "I've been…petrified…hard to…speak… Oww… Give me…a moment, please!"

Lex slipped the bag from his shoulder and held it out to her.

"Here. New clothes, courtesy of the Queen of Alken and Venn. It can be difficult to learn sorcery if you're the sort to let your emotions get the better of you. The traditional methods don't work well. Your master Carhillion is in Majula, but Queen Mytha has offered to teach you as well."

"Wha- who-?"

"I am the prophet of goddess of passion. Your desires are known to me, Rosabeth of Melfia. Now, hurry to Majula. The path ahead is dangerous. And tell that idiot outside that the path is cleared."

She nodded and took the bag without asking further questions. A few moments after she had left, a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Have you business with me?" the swordsman from before said in a gruff voice.

"If I pull this lever to open the path, that door seals. Of course, it resets once you've rested at a bonfire, but I figured I'd save you the trouble."

"Ach, and here I was thinking you were to turn on me. The name's Benhart. I owe you a debt, and I'll pay it in battle, I swear on my ancient blade."

"Sure, thanks," Lex said, halfheartedly hiding his lack of enthusiasm. "It's fake as Gwynevere's tits," he whispered to Safiya.

He pulled the switch, and the door opened slowly, revealing the staring eyes of a basilisk. Lex extended a finger and thumb.

"You know, this would be a lot cooler if I were a sorcerer, but fire will have to do. Spirit Gun!"

A line of flame lanced from his fingertip and through the basilisk's head. The room beyond held more of the deformed creatures, and he shot again and again. Benhart gave a sharp whistle. Behind the cell doors that hadn't opened were a bonfire and a shard of the diminished Estus Flask. The door beyond opened to reveal a path leading upward through a misty dead forest.

Midway up, one of the formerly-human creatures could be seen gnawing on the desiccated body of a hollow. Another flame arrow. A second creature ahead, another shot. Around the bend, two more in front and two in ambush – four shots, faster than one could blink.

"You dinnae even fight them," the swordsman said solemnly.

"They're not worth anyone's time," Lex sighed.

Safiya looked at him but said nothing. Three more shot down as they entered a ruined courtyard dedicated to a forgotten goddess. Exiting, there was one final ambush before arriving at a bonfire in the center of an old crossroads tower. Lex's eyes darted upward to the masked figure resting on the walkway above.

"Creighton! Your friend's on ahead in Tseldora!"

"Oh, is there another warrior already on this path?" Benhart said curiously. "How did you manage to get past the statue?"

"Hm?" the warrior grunted. "It's you. You're making all sorts of friends, aren't you?"

Creighton rose, axe in hand.

"Now, I should ask your new friend where he got that armor. Since you helped me out, I'll overlook it."

"Ach! I see!" Benhart said, looking up at the other wanderer.

The crests on their tabards were the same.

"You'll have to forgive me," the swordsman said, "I came across one of your fallen brothers when I was in sore need of some new armor. I've treated it as well as it's treated me, I swear. I've no wish to part with it, but I'll give you the seal for sure."

Benhart started to remove the tabard, but Creighton shook his head.

"No. It's better on a live man. Just watch yourself. I've already told the clergy there, but keep your eyes peeled for a slimy backstabber. Pate, he was called."

"Aye, thanks for the warning."

With that, Creighton turned and left the tower for the misty forest to the south. Lex leaned toward Safiya and started whispering again.

"Now _his_ armor is as fake as Gwynevere's tits."


	12. I can't think of a Vriska pun

Benhart chose to remain at the bonfire while the Chaos Lords continued onward, insisting that he couldn't simply depend on their overwhelming power. Lex and Safiya didn't spend long in the hazy woods. In fact, the prophet led a sprint straight to the exit before the hidden enemies could catch them. After lighting the bonfire amidst the ruins of a great bridge, he climbed over the impassable waist-high wall, unpetrified the hollowed lion warrior, and killed it for the key it carried. He continued down the ledge to the impassable shoulder-high wall and climbed through the hole in the cliffside into the cavern beyond.

More than the light from outside, the passage was illuminated by glowing pits of amber-colored acid. This time, the impassable wall was taller than he was, but it was still something even someone nonathletic could get over by jumping and grabbing the edge.

"Grandaaaahl!" he moaned as he climbed over. "Don't you run from meeeeee!"

"Young Undead," the old hexer said solemnly, "don't let this curse weigh upon you."

"The only thing that's weighing upon me is that I don't have a stockpile of humanity! Look, I don't work for Aldia! I hate the stupid godmode Sue! I need humanity so I can spend it on time travel experiments. I'm gathering all the sorcerers left in Drangleic in Majula so we can try to figure out how I got here and how I can get back.

As the foremost authority on the Dark, you're one of my best bets, since I've actually experienced Dark-based time travel before. But if you want to make me chase you to the hidden shrine beneath the castle, where you pretend Nashandra isn't the cause of all these years of suffering in Drangleic, I will."

"I see. I do not believe your tale as yet, but you know much, young Undead. To be frank, I care not for the suffering of transient men who hold dear their false forms. Nor do I for traditional sorcerers and their hidebound ways. You demand much of me, young Undead. What have you to offer in return?"

"Uhhh…"

Lex was stumped. Normally, he knew beforehand what each NPC would desire. What did the Darkdiver truly want – to see a Pilgrim defeat the Darklurker, the power of Lifedrain, or nothing less than the long-awaited Age of Dark? He glanced around. Safiya was hiding, despite her great size, and waiting to see how he would resolve someone standing up to him. At last, he sighed.

"The benefits of time travel are self-evident, even if that power has to be shared. But sure, I'll go one better. When the path to the past is opened, I will personally introduce you to the second Dark Lord. Just don't get too excited; she's not anything like what you'd expect."

The old hexer stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Your offer only benefits me if the project succeeds. You are unfair, young Undead. Still, I suppose selfishness is part of Dark's nature. It does me no harm to observe this gathering. I will decide whether to lend my aid then. Farewell, young Undead. Until we meet again."

With that, Grandahl's wheelchair rolled backward on its own, dipping into the shadowy earth as if rolling down a ramp. A moment passed, and he was gone. Safiya stood, the look of disbelief on her face rising just above the ledge.

"Another one falls for your clumsy rhetoric. Is there some contaminant in the air, or are you using some sort of Chaos insect pheromones?"

"Gotta love that Telvanni bug musk! But nah. Honestly, I get the impression that most of the Undead are just waiting for someone. You know, 'holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night.' They need a Lord or a Monarch to guide them because they're not strong enough on their own."

"This would be you?"

"The Chosen Undead to succeed Lord Gwyn. The Bearer of the Curse to succeed King Vendrick. That's certainly the role I'm intended to play, but is it really bravery if I know everything and can face certain death without blinking? I relied too much on others during my first journey to be that sort of figure. I'm not the Monarch; I'm her consort."

The Sinner wrinkled her nose.

"That's hardly how it seems to me, but I suppose I will reserve judgment for the present."

Lex nodded and hopped down. He continued to the end of the chamber, holding his hands to either side, palms outward. Streams of flame ran into holes in the walls, and four basilisks croaked their last. The prophet used the key he'd taken from the lion warrior on the unexplained wooden door at the end of the passage. Inside was one of Velka's so-called crow demons, those horrid bird-faced naked humanoids. It opened its long, hooked beak in greeting instead of an attempt to devour Undead flesh.

"Thank you for helping me. I am Ornifex. I owe you some form of thanks, but have nothing for you at the moment. If it would not trouble you, could you visit my abode just down the way?"

"Certainly! But could you perhaps answer a question for me first?"

"Of course. Whatever you wish."

"Do you know the origin of your people? Or rather, what do you know about Velka, the Raven-Haired Witch, Goddess of Sin?"

"I confess, I do not care much for such legends. I have not heard that name, but as for a Goddess of Sin, one is worshiped in this region. She is popular with my people, and with the humans. One of her high priests preached nearby, I recall."

Lex closed his eyes to process this. No new information.

"Thank you, Ornifex. We'll pay you a visit once we're done in these ruins."

The prophet turned and waved his companion back the way they'd come. The crow demon stepped out of the small room in which she'd been trapped and awkwardly hopped over them before sprinting out of the confining cave.

"What manner of creature was that?" Safiya asked.

"They're called crow demons by most, but they're actually the crow people of Velka. The originals were humans so dedicated to Raven Goddess that they took on that form in emulation. We'll have to be careful. I sealed Velka in my time, but all bets are off here. She is the single most dangerous entity in the world.

It was Velka who called me from my original world to be the Chosen Undead. We never learned the true depths of her power. When we fought her, she mainly used mind control, illusions, and environmental effects. There's no telling what she could do if she used that summoning power that brought me here. Keep in mind – she hates Chaos because she can't control it, but it can't hurt her either."

"What?" Safiya spat, incredulous. "How can anything be impervious to Chaos?"

"It's a flawed copy of the First Flame, after all. Velka is powerful enough that being caught in the relighting of the Flame didn't kill her. Because of her illusions, we weren't ever entirely sure what could even hurt her."

"So you sealed her. You are not so flawless as you seem."

"No one's perfect. Not even the goddess of perfection – that's the point."

They returned to the bridge and crossed to the other side. More lion warriors approached, but the lumbering axemen were no match for the flashing blades of the Chaos swordsmen. Slaanesh was the Chaos god associated with speed, after all. They turned and descended into a ruined building, so worn that even the remains of the roof were nowhere to be found.

"I had noticed it before, but curses truly are thick here," Safiya murmured.

The black fog clutched tightly to both of them, but the parasitic nature of Chaos made it resistant to lesser afflictions. Lex destroyed one of the offending cursed vases casually and shrugged.

"Curses and petrification were conjoined in the distant past. Now they're separate but are often found in the same places. It doesn't really make sense, given the new context for curses, yeah."

They headed for the basement, where Safiya just barely had enough room to stand upright. The room was full of barrels with a curse pot at the other side, so the Sinner dashed through, cleaving all of them in twain before heading out the door. What exactly the outside area had been before its ruin couldn't be determined, but in its ruined, sand-filled state, it looked like a gladiatorial pit. As if to emphasize this, a man stood slouching in one corner of the sand – half nude but armored, as a gladiator. Or rather, that's what it seemed on first glance.

What seemed to be an armored waist was covered instead in an exoskeleton. The body of the man rose from where the head ought to have been on a massive scorpion.

"Hello, Tark," Lex said casually. "I have a bone to pick with your wife. What say you to joining my mother-in-law and I in putting an end to her rampage?"

Safiya grumbled at being called that again.

"Human, you…?" the monster said, cautious but calm. "Are you not afraid of me? Where did you learn that name?"

"I am Lex, Prophet of Slaanesh. More importantly in this case, I am King-Consort of Izalith. Your wife was created in the image of Chaos Queen Laag. Honestly, it raises some awkward questions because you and I are nothing alike."

"We were created after humans? Then why are our forms like this?"

"I never said Quelaag was human. Her lower half was a _spider_."

"A spider, you say! We are quite familiar with spiders."

"I thought as much. It goes deeper, though. It's likely that your wife's descent into violent madness is a result of the flawed copying. The power of Chaos is driven by primal emotion. Quelaag's power is bound up in her fury. Najka simply have lost control of an imitation fury."

The slumping manscorpion snapped to attention.

"It is not her fault, then?"

"I won't be able to say with certainty until I meet her in person."

"I will take you immediately-!"

"No. My gift of prophecy shows the way. Go directly there and be ready to ambush her when we arrive."

Tark nodded. His massive scorpion pincers began hacking away at the sand beneath him, and he swiftly disappeared beneath the dust.

"A flawed copy of the Chaos Queen?" Safiya murmured. "I wonder what this will teach me about the genuine article."

"Hard to say. Najka doesn't have any dialogue. But there's one difference for sure. Quelaag's not just some rage monster – it's what you'd call 'righteous fury.' Now, I won't mince words.

She's definitely committed a few atrocities, but each one was done to protect her family or her people. I don't know if we can say the same about Najka, who only has her mate and her insane master."

They returned through the ruined building and followed the path the other way. A basilisk the size of a dragon stood directly in their path, but a basilisk was a basilisk. Safiya shot directly at it, and its house-sized googly eyes bounced through the air as its head split in two. The pair continued around the bend, hacking through another lion warrior before passing under a massive arch. They turned about again on the other side and slowly made their way up an enormous slope to what had once been an enormous circular entrance hall.

The entrance to the cavern beyond had been smashed open to accommodate a much taller and wider creature than a mere human. Beyond the fog was an enormous chamber filled with sand and desiccated trees. Though there were large natural holes in the ceiling that let in light, of greater concern were the smaller holes put there by burrowing creatures. At the bottom of the bowl-like sand pit waited a naked woman – or at least the upper half of one.

She had a broad face with strong features. Her skin was sickly pale and scarred from countless battles, and her eyes were entirely blood red. Long black hair covered her breasts, and a silver skull hung between them on a chain.

"Hey, Najka, how insane are you on a scale from one to Yharnam?"

She only fired a blob of soul energy in response, so the pair moved to either side and approached cautiously. Once they'd crossed half the distance, the monster-woman saw that any further deception would be pointless and drew the rest of her body out from under the sand. Like Tark, she had the lower body of an enormous scorpion, but she was easily twice or even thrice his size. While her claws weren't as powerful as his, instead of a single small tail, she had two the size of mature trees. In her right hand, she clutched a crooked chitin staff that would just just as effective at running someone through as casting spells.

She held the weapon ready as the swordsmen closed on either side, but as she began to jump away, she found herself trapped. Tark's pincers burst from the ground to latch onto her own, holding her in place. She snarled incoherently and stabbed at the sand with her tail stingers.

"You know better than that," Tark said solemnly, rising from the sand. "All this time, neither of us was able to best the other. At last, this will end, one way or another."

"Safiya, block her staff for a minute!"

The Sinner hammered her greatsword against the armored catalyst again and again, Preventing the sorceress from doing more than defending with it. With all of her attacks spent, the prophet had free reign to do as he wanted.

"And now for my secret technique!"

Using one of her own legs as a stepladder, he climbed onto her back and hooked both his arms under hers. He pulled his hands together behind her head, pressing it down into her cleavage.

"Full Nelson!"

Safiya nearly dropped her sword at the sheer stupidity of it. Still, it was effective. While Lex certainly wasn't the strongest Chosen Undead, the monster-woman didn't have enough leverage to free her arms now that she'd been caught. Behind her back like that, he was too close to be struck by her tails. With Tark preventing her from burrowing, she had been entirely neutralized. She screamed something incoherently.

"Maim, kill, burn, am I right? You've had too many servings of Khorne Flakes."

"Stop agitating her, if you would," Safiya barked, taking command for once.

The bald, tattooed woman walked around Tark and approached the scorpioness from the other side. She looked into Najka's one exposed eye with her one good eye and placed a hand on the side of her head. She hummed before beginning a mantra.

 _Chaos is the extinction of desire._

 _The desire of Chaos is not my own._

 _The desire of Chaos destroys my own._

 _The power of Chaos may become mine._

 _But the cost of Chaos is my whole self._

 _A victory through Chaos is hollow._

 _The temptations of Chaos are hollow._

 _Chaos of my heart be quelled._

The droning chant of the priestess could have made anyone sleepy. Measured line after measured line drilled into Najka's head as golden sealing runes flickered in the Sinner's ice-blue eye. The final line broke the rhythm and the trance, shocking the spell into activity. Though clearly designed as a ward against the onset of Chaos' pervading madness, it seemed to have a similar effect on this artificial copy. The monster-woman blinked seven times as the red washed out of her eyes.

"Huh," Lex said flatly. "I was kind of wondering what powers the priestesses had to suppress the Chaos. Not what I had in mind. There was more ice."

"Those spells are for the restraint of victims too dangerous to save. In rare cases, they may also be used to hold victims for a period of time in the hopes that the influence of Chaos over them will fade with time or distance. We yet still have only mean methodologies for the excision of the root of Chaos. Temporary suppression methods such as this are often the only balm we find viable. Or so it was."

"I see. We've actually not come across this particular problem yet since everyone but me survived the initial rush without becoming a mindless monster. I had a gentle introduction and then the bulk of the power I have now was carefully balanced when I took it in."

"Hu-? Wh-?" Najka groggily began to say. "Tark… is that you? What happened…?"

Lex released his grip and hopped down, waving to Safiya.

"Well, that sounds like our cue to skedaddle. If you ever feel the need for company, everyone's moving to Majula. And the language has changed, so you'll need this."

He slipped the Ring of Whispers off his finger and tossed it to Tark, who caught it on his stinger.

"Tell them the prophet sent you, and there shouldn't be any trouble."

With that, he headed toward the one standing doorway leading out of the chasm. A long tunnel of carved stone lay ahead. He clenched his fist and cursed under his breath. Over his shoulder, he saw the scorpion couple reconciling.

"Dammit, Laag. You're in the past. You've had all this time to contact me…"


	13. Sin is in

**Author's Note: Slightly gruesome description immediately follows Lex descending the ladder. Skip that paragraph if you're particularly squeamish, but it's nothing explicit.**

Lex stopped only briefly in the Doors of Pharros, to make certain arrangements with Gavlan. Sworn ally as he was to the kings of the rats and the gyrm, none of the inhabitants of the great stone passage moved to harm him or Safiya. Soon, they found themselves at the campsite above the Brightstone Cove. The stench of burning flesh was overwhelming. He stopped only long enough to light the bonfire.

Lying about the campsite were bits of irregularly-broken stone with bent iron bars jutting out of the tops. It was almost as if they had been chunks of a large building, but there was no such structure nearby. Atop each was a pile of eternally-burning corpses. Lex turned away, holding his breath, and continued down the slope to the town. They hurried past the obvious falling boulder traps and hacked through the hollow miners blocking their way.

At the bottom of the slope and through a narrow passage, they at last came upon an elaborate facade. The doors beneath it were iron and covered in spider iconography. Already annoyed from having seen his wife's recolor, the King of Izalith kicked them in and hurried down the worn earthen passage beyond. He paid no attention to the holes eaten in the walls, nor the human bones picked clean of meat. As he approached the trap, the man-eating spiders hiding in the walls skittered away from the vaguely familiar sensation of his soul.

Ahead was a wooden door reinforced with iron bands. He kicked this one out of the way as well. He paused only to speak quickly.

"We need this one alive."

With that, he forced his way through the fog gate to the right.

"This world was founded upon Sin!" a melodramatic voice thundered. "This is no mere offense against the gods! It is an offense against the nature of the world itself! What is for us then, we imperfect Sinners who inhabit a Sinful world? Our salvation is simple, my children!

We must Sin so greatly that this hateful, self-righteous world rejects us altogether!"

"Interesting philosophy!" Safiya hissed, baring her teeth. "Allow me to give you an object lesson!"

With both of the Chaos Lords galled, few foes would have stood a chance. As it happened, there was only one warlock, a pair of priests, and a handful of hollows. The Sinner flipped through the air and hacked one of the clerics in half. She let her momentum carry her blade around, and the hollows lying about the floor flipped into the air in pieces. Lex only shouted.

 _Yol! Toor Shul!_

The Thu'um washed over the other half of the enemies, a wave of sound and flame that fulfilled both versions of Chaos. Now, only a few hollows and the warlock remained. Lex nodded to Safiya.

 _Fus!_

The sonic boom flipped the remaining hollows into the air, bowling over the warlock, who found himself falling into the Old One's iron grip. She swiftly tore the warped beast's skull from his head, revealing a man with blue skin and red eyes.

"A gravewarden?"

"A fake," Lex said quietly.

"Call me what you want, brutes," the cloaked warlock chuckled. "My kind are but the first step to Man's future. The gods forced us to bear their image; the great sage has given us a new one, borrowed though it may be."

"You haven't seen what humans look like, unsealed," Lex said absently. "Oh hell."

He had turned about to look at the statue at the front of the room. The arena had been a dilapidated church, but the statue of the goddess stood undamaged, if worn. The hairstyle and gown were new, but the sharp, beaklike nose and glaring eyes were unmistakable. All the more damning was the feathered talisman carried in her left hand.

"Safiya, do you have any skill at interrogation?"

"Research, most certainly. Interrogation is not entirely dissimilar."

"Make him talk," the prophet hissed. "What is the relationship between the Scholar of the First Sin and the Goddess of Sin? I want to know _everything_. I'm going to go grab the second suspect."

He stalked out of the room as the Sinner slammed the warlock into one of the pews. As soon as he exited, he veered left and into an alcove. There, he climbed a wooden ladder into the church's damp attic. The rotten corpses of hollows lay about in the mold, and in the center of the room stood one of the infamous black clerics. The masked man held his hands together solemnly.

"Something seems to be bothering you," he said. "Yes, yes, I can tell. It is written upon your face.  
You have doubts, about something you did."

Lex threw his arms wide in imitation of the prior Pardoner, Oswald. The priest didn't react. He wasn't aware of his predecessor at least. With luck, he wouldn't know about the Chosen Undead or the events that transpired so long ago now.

"Speakest unto me, o Pardoner, o ear o'th' Raven, of what fate has befallen thy mistress, that her priest attendeth the agents of a heretic and presideth over the lands of her onetime confidante!"

"Oh," the Pardoner said, quite surprised. "You know much. You hold me at a disadvantage, sir. I am Cromwell. Might I trouble you for your name?"

"I am Prophet of a distant goddess in a distant land. Thou mayst call me Ash, of Pallet Town, for such was my birthplace. My lady dideth speak of a time when the Raven wast sole mistress of the power of Flame. Why doth the Goddess of Sin abide this transgression by the heretic Aldia?"

"You know much, Prophet Ash," the Pardoner said gravely. "I, too, feel the Duke Aldia dabbles in power beyond his ken. He is an amateur, and his wretched form shows as much. Our Lady of Sin allows – no, encourages – his bumbling because it is better to sacrifice a willing fool than one of her own. Legend states that when she commanded such sacrifice of her High Pardoner many lifetimes ago, he went rogue. The Lady was hesitant to command us abide Aldia's abominations, but we will not break faith so easily."

"What doth she desire, then? Why doth she wish to know what lies beyond her own power?"

The Pardoner smiled.

"Some say the gods are gods because they are eternal and unchanging. Is it not appropriate for the Lady of Sin to transgress against that dictum?"

"I see. I thank thee for thy straightforward explanation. Perhaps I shall return for further discussion when I have learnt more of this tragedy."

As Lex turned to go, the Pardoner placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Here. This is for you. A man of faith cannot go ill-equipped."

The black cleric slipped a ring into his palm. It was a thick tin band with four small gemstones clumsily hanging off either side.

The prophet blinked.

"Oh… right…"

"Hm?"

The Pardoner was confused by this change in speech, but Lex hurried back down the ladder. The hall below had been splattered with chunks of human flesh during the fight, but the scene that greeted him belonged more in Yharnam. Decades of self-mutilation and the execution of prisoners had made the Lost Sinner an expert in pain. The warlock's body was flayed of flesh, and countless shards of the wooden pews jutted out of the bare muscle. His limbs were all broken, and a pile of fingers, toes, teeth, and ears lay neatly beside him.

"You weren't specific," Safiya said to the prophet's shocked face.

He gripped his mouth, holding back his rising bile.

"Don't be naive. This is another duty a ruler must uphold. Even my own had a team of… unsavory… men to fulfill this purpose. My King did not flinch from what needed be done. Will you leave such wickedness to your demon bride?"

"Quelaat."

"Elaborate."

"In old Izalith, this was one of Quelaat's specialties. She sacrificed her life to seal the Bed of Chaos. Quelaag has killed countless, but she's never tortured anyone. Not outside the bedroom, anyway."

He took his gold-hemmed black talisman from his belt. He stroked the lock of hair that bound it. Some cleric he was. Confident in his own Chaos-based immortality, he only had pyromancies memorized.

"More importantly," he said quietly, "people reach a point where they start making things up to make the torture stop. How do I even know what you got out of him is right?"

"You have more control over these powers than do I. We can _feel_ it. No matter how hardened or depraved, there will be a change: fear or pleasure or relaxation. I have had years to perfect my understanding of the most subtle of cues. I suspect you will be a quick study."

"We'll discuss this later," Lex said, swallowing. "Are you done with him?"

"Of course. I wouldn't dare keep the great prophet waiting."

"Then end it."

The Sinner looked him in the eye. She shrugged and drew her sword. The gagged warlock whimpered for a moment, but then it was over. His head arced through the air for a split second before it and the rest of his body dissolved into souls.

"What about the other one?" she asked flatly.

"I asked him nicely. Come on."

Safiya followed the grumbling Lex into a cave opposite the church's exit. He skirted a ledge too narrow for her to follow and lit a bonfire on the other side.

"Wait a minute," he said coldly. "I'm going to get someone who actually knows how to deal with criminals."

He vanished into the flame. When he returned several minutes later, he was accompanied by the lion-masked Dragonslayer.

"Where are the miscreants?" the Sentinel growled. "I dare not leave my post long."

"This way."

Lex ducked around the outcropping, but the Dragonslayer was likewise too large to get around it. Instead, he jabbed his stone-shattering spear into the side and swung around like a gymnast. With Safiya trailing, they left the cave. To the right was a cliff that overlooked homes built right into the cliffside and an enormous basin of falling sand. The prophet hopped over the side and entered the first doorway.

"He swung at me! Please, lend me a hand!" Pate called out.

"Damn! You're tougher than you look!" Creighton snarled.

"Right, this shit," Lex said, utterly done.

He stepped aside, and the Dragonslayer roared. The two combatants paused for a moment, fearful of some monster. Sure enough, the Sentinel slammed the broad of his spear into both of them, pinning them against the wall. He shook his clawed fist, and a black shockwave washed over the room. The weight of the criminals' gear became overbearing, and then slumped over on the steel pole.

Borderline helpless already, Lex approached and unleashed Chaos vines to bind their wrists and ankles. The Dragonslayer nodded appreciatively before throwing the pair over either shoulder. He snapped a homeward bone and was gone, taking the prisoners with him.

"Care to explain?" Safiya said flatly.

Lex kicked over a bookshelf hiding a secret passage that she would only fit through uncomfortably.

"Yeah, sure. That's the guy I gave the last suspicious person I needed interrogated to. I haven't gotten anything back yet, but she also still has all her skin. Now let's keep moving. We need to be in Eleum Loyce yesterday. It's the only place guaranteed safe from Velka.


	14. Hazardous Dukes

The ruins of what was once a thriving mining town were now utterly filled with spiders that devoured the innards of men and used them as vessels. Yet not one of them approached Lex. Now clearly agitated by Safiya's actions, by Velka's presence, and by his unexplained appearance in Drangleic, he was beginning to have trouble controlling the Chaos within himself. The spiders were barely intelligent, but even they could feel the weight of his soul bearing upon them. Safiya followed closely, less now because he was leading the way and more because she wanted to be within striking distance.

They entered the ducal palace and climbed into the central room. What had once been many rooms over several storeys was now a single spider's den, web thick as stone linking the ruined floors. He descended through the strands utterly without fear, dropping straight to the bottom on a vine. The fog gate boiled away at his touch. The wet cave floor beyond was paved with human remains, and the spiders crawled across the walls.

Only, on looking up, it wasn't a cave so much as a platform jutting out into a canyon. The sky was black, and a canopy of webs held a massive body between the canyon walls like a ceiling. The enormous muzzle of a petrified dragon hung just over the edge of the platform. Atop the beast was an equally-large spider, which hissed and lunged down to confront the intruder.

" **SEATH!** " Lex exploded, his voice a bass blast that nearly shook the smaller spiders from the walls.

The enormous spider skittered from side to side, observing him. Safiya held her sword at the ready, glancing back and forth between them.

" **YOU HAVE A HELL OF A LOT TO ANSWER FOR!** "

The Chaos cleric clutched his gold-hemmed black talisman so tightly that his hand shook. It almost wasn't noticeable, considering the spell he was casting.

 _I was born on Olympus_

 _To my father, a son_

 _I was raised by the demons_

 _Trained to reign as the One_

 _God of Thunder_

 _And Rock and Roll_

 _The spell you're under_

 _Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul_

Ultimately, Gwyn's soul was determined to be too valuable to spend frivolously. With Lex's knowledge that Straid and Ornifex could give it different forms than the giant blacksmith, Gwyndolin and Quelaag had decided to wait until the newly-anointed Archivists had learned all they could about it. This meant that Lex needed to acquire Sunlight Spear through alternate means. It was simply not possible to duplicate the most refined art of the Lord of Sunlight by observing Quelaav's sunfire. He was, however, able to forge a lance of jagged thunder that screamed and smoked with the madness of Chaos.

The enormous spider instinctively recoiled from the thing. Its current body was vulnerable to fire, but its spirit's memories of the ancient Dragonslayers were powerful. As a spell that embodied both, the Chaos Spear was a thing of terror. Yet despite the spider's all-consuming fear, it leaned in for a closer look even as it retreated. Its mandibles chattered and hissed, but spiders weren't capable of making complex vocalizations.

As Lex raised the bolt threateningly, the fog covering the exit shuddered and admitted a human form. In strode Duke Tseldora himself, clad in dirty finery, his long hair matted. It was clear to anyone from his green skin and blank eyes that he was nearly hollow, if not all the way. He took a long, ragged breath as he spoke.

"Whooooooooooooooooooo are you?"

"Prophet Lex, Chosen Undead and Lord of Izalith! When we last spoke, you gave the Dark Lord Beatrice the Primordial Crystal!"

The hollow's head lolled.

"Yyyyyyyyyyou are mistaken. The Chosen Undead destroyed that Crystal. Izalith was destroyed long before his coming, aaaaaaas was the so-called Dark Lord."

Lex's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, god. So that's what it is. I'm not in the future. I'm in a parallel timeline. Quelaag can't hear me because this Quelaag is dead."

Furious but lacking a target for his anger, he launched the spear sidelong. It struck the canyon wall with an electric wub, causing a small rockslide.

"Alright, then, Seath! Let's trade! You tell me what you know about the power to cross between worlds, and I'll tell you about a world where the First Flame never died!"

Storytime again. Safiya relaxed but kept her sword in one hand. The Duke's hollowed face cracked an absent smile.

"Aaaaaan interesting tale, I'm certain, but hardly comparable in vaaaaaalue to such precious knowledge."

"You don't know anything, do you?" Lex said seriously. "The Velka of the last world I was in used it to take me from my own world! Someone has used it to bring me here now! Who has that power?"

"Whooooooo indeed. I am afraid that even I have little information on such an obscure rite. Truly, I had thooooought it merely hypothetical. I was not aware that dear Velka had developed it, much less put it to use."

"I don't want to make any assumptions here. Even if the Velka of this world can use it, why would she summon me of all people? The Velka I knew was anal about keeping the 'correct' flow of events. Since my arrival, I've done nothing but disrupt that. I have Quel's reincarnation with me here instead of transposed into a sword or something."

Safiya was really getting tired of being reduced to someone's reincarnation. She sighed.

"Oooooooh? I have too many eyes now, so I had not noticed. Yes, I see. Her soul iiiiiis greatly diminished. What a loss, that the Flame returns weaker each time. Soooooon, it will be the end of all of us. Or so I had theorized.

Yooooou carry that same soul, from the other world you spoke of, correct? Iiiiiiiii do not care for the fate of that world, but of this one. Explain hooooooooow you kept the Flame lit, and I will do my utmost to track down the oh-so-elusive Raven-Haired Witch."

"Really? You don't care that your daughter got married recently? You'd already been killed, so in a bit of wicked irony, Ornstein took the role of 'father' for the ceremony."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat? That child was a weapon of untamed destruction! What mate could she haaaaaave possibly found?" The hollow snarled, "No. I won't let you baaaaiiiiiit me like that."

"I could tell you what Havel's up to. He sent a body double to his trial and hid in Ash Lake. He ended up turning into a stone dragon. You, he, and Kalameet had a Mexican standoff in Anor Londo."

"Yoooouuuu are a cruel one."

Duke Tseldora's body fell limp with resignation, like a puppet hanging on loose strings. The enormous spider tapped one of its feet anxiously.

"I suppose that is a requirement for the oooooooone who would devour the gods. I do not knoooow what became of that child of mine in this world. Iiiiiif nothing else, I am curious as to how you chaaaaanged your own world so that such an abomination would be weeeelcome. A possessor of Lifehunt would be the most dangerous and feared creature iiiin a world of renewed Flame."

"We briefly employed her as the gatekeeper of Izalith. After a while, though, it was pretty clear she had other interests. We parted amicably and still see each other at the Communion of Souls."

"Coooommunion?"

"Well, the gods in the rest of the world don't exactly want to give up their independence. The Lord of Dark Sun has been communicating with any who answer him. He's given the cooperative near-autonomy. Others, he's left alone. Those that continue to abuse their human worshipers?

We're building an army. The Communion of Souls represents the Flame in its entirety – the Gravelord, the Dark Sun, the Demon Queen, the First Keeper, and myself. We control the Kiln and the bonfires. The Undead Curse is broken in the outside world, but we can still harness it. If Flame represents the power of knowledge, imagine what we could do with a world united under an undivided Flame."

The spider and the hollow shuddered.

"Ooooooooh! The ambition of it! It remiiiiinds me of the Soul Hunt! You cannot imagine! Thaaaat time before the so-called Lords became the duuuuuuuuuullards they died as!

How long did I spy upon theeeee Kindling City of Ilyon! Nito the elder, Gwyn and his freedom fighters, Quel aaaaaand her homunculi, and most of all – Dyed Velka! Teeeeeell me, does your Communion lust for Flame like the woman whoooooo would hold it all herself? How will make uuuuuuse of your limitless Flame?"

"My original world had devices capable of accessing the information stored on each other. This formed a global network which contained all the information known to mankind. This was a world where Flame meant a chemical reaction. Imagine what I can do with that knowledge and the power of Chaos! My home nation once traveled to the moon! Izalith's empire will span the stars!"

The hollow was hyperventilating now.

"Yeeeees! Never settle for mere rule! Seek aaaalways to stoke your Flame, young Lord!"

"That is the way of Slaanesh! Always new experiences! The quest for perfection is never-ending!"

"Iiiiiiiii will serve your Izalith as once I served Gwyn's Londo! Do not disappoooooint me as he did!"

"Well, I might have a few things to say about your ethics."

"Truly an understatement…" Safiya mumbled, finally getting a word in.

"Iiiii will restrain myself so long as you can proviiiiide sufficient engagement in so-called 'ethical' fields."

"I don't guess I'm going to get any better from the guy who turned holy maidens into giant blue penis monsters."

"Aaaaaaah. I had forgotten about that experiment. It provided iiiinteresting data at the time."

Lex sighed.

"Speaking of huge dicks, what do you know about Aldia? As it turns out, he escaped the cycle of Flame altogether."

"Iiiiii had heard rumors, but there are always rumors about maaaaad sorcerers and noblemen. I did not expect much of yet anooooother. Since you wouldn't be asking if you knew yourself, Iiiii will refrain from asking how such a thing is possible. Raaaaaather, why? What fool would seek to escape the cycle?

Nooooo thing in this existence is free. The Dark is a price we pay for theeeee Light. It is Flame which grants us ambition and the wiiiiiill to seek it. A life without Flame is not one worth living."

The prophet shook his head.

"I don't know either, but he's powerful for it. He's like a miniature Bed of Chaos, which doesn't entirely make sense since his area of study was dragon. The only connection to Chaos is Navlaan, who isn't developed very well either. It's like the Painted World all over again, except even less coherent.

More to the point, death is irrelevant to the smug bastard. He doesn't just heal himself like I do with my Chaos powers. He comes back like an Undead, but with no obvious reliance on a bonfire. Well… he could be trapped in the Throne, I guess. It wouldn't be surprising for someone like him to be using projections or bonfire warping."

"Iiiiiinteresting. I will inform you if I leeeeearn something about this Aldia."

"Nah. He's in your storeroom with the headless dude. Let's just go talk to him."

"Whaaat?"

"Believe me," Safiya said coldly, "you will grow accustomed to such behavior."

The spiders skittered away, back into their hiding places while the hollow Duke followed after the prophet. Lex approached the fog gate casually. After a moment it dispersed, as the boss was now an ally. They passed first through the Duke's study and then to a large room with a primal bonfire at the center. As Lex had mentioned, the headless body of an enormous hollow stood idle, a large rusted scimitar in either hand. The cleric raised his sword, but Safiya shook her head.

"Allow me, if you would. I need something to calm my nerves."

She flashed forward with an overhead stroke. The hollow, though blind, just barely caught the blade using the sheer mass of its own swords as a shield. It flailed with berserk fury, but the Sinner danced around the attacks and swept the legs out from under the corpse. With an air of finality, she drove her blade deep into its back, dispersing it into souls. The Duke applauded politely.

"Iiiiin truth, I had been saving that to examine, but I thiiiink I won't mind much, with all you have brought to my attention."

Lex approached the primal bonfire and extended a hand to the broken sword.

" _Young hollow_."

The bonfire exploded. Lex was sent hurtling back by the force but quickly caught himself in midair by throwing vines to the ceiling and floor. A gnarled tangle of burning tree roots in the shape of a human head rested where the bonfire had been.

"Aldia, you ham! You just _have_ to make an entrance! Even Quelaag's not that showy!"

" _I have heard much of what was said. Young hollow, do you believe yourself a true monarch? Others have thought the same. You have already seen their remains. Do you remain resolute in your choice?_ "

"Aldia, stop being a prick and give me the Ashen Mist Heart. I can probably connect the dimensions that way. I swear will suplex that stupid fake dragon if I have to."

" _A shame, really. I will speak with you another time. Perhaps you will be more receptive once you have experienced greater hardship._ "

"Don't you run away from me! Safiya, use your bondage gear! Seath, crystallize his fat head! **_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._** "

For a moment, it seemed as if the Dark-bending words would sap Aldia's strength as they had Safiya's. The abomination's burning red eyes met the Chaos Lord's own. With a shudder of his enormous body, the Scholar of the First Sin imploded, unleashing a wave of Dark Flame that sent the three sprawling. Lex and Safiya weren't harmed, but Duke Tseldora's body was incinerated in a flash. The everlasting dragon's hideous voice echoed faintly throughout the ruins, cursing his luck.

"Seath, can you not just stop haunting these ruins and haunt the Major League Gaming Sword instead? You don't really need the spiders to collect crap for you anymore, do you?"

"What manner of monster is this Seath anyway?" Safiya said cautiously.

"The only mortal dragon. Well, he was. He cheated his way to immortality, which is why he's currently haunting crap instead of being an unstoppable flying lizard."

They returned to the boss arena. Sure enough, an immensely-thick bronze shortsword hung from a stray strand of web that resembled the Primordial Crystal. About its blade hummed a blue-green field of solid light. Lex wrenched it free and strapped it to his back with a vine. The dragon's relic secured, he turned his eyes upward.

The countless maneating spiders still skittered about the canyon walls. Their progenitor, at last freed of the malevolent immortal's control, rested cautiously atop the petrified dragon. Her territory was being intruded upon, but the tiny creature still gave the impression of something _much_ larger. The Demon King smirked.

"Here, Frejafrejafrejafreja! Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl?"


	15. The First Annual Drangleic Beardfest

With the combination of an Undead's twisted sense of time, memory loss due to hollowing, and total lack of fatigue, it was amazing what could be accomplished in a short time. The ruined buildings of Majula now stood restored, a gazebo built over what had formerly been the waste pit. In Shalquoir's house, Lex sat at the head of a long table, the sorcerers of Drangleic lining either side. The large cat sat contented on on his lap while the former executioner stood nearby in case any of them turned violent. However, there were two unexpected guests.

Mytha, a sorceress herself and the last to know the lost arts of the Old Iron King, was coiled opposite the prophet, simply because there was no room for her otherwise. At the Chosen Undead's right hand was an old, bearded man who was most distinctly not a sorcerer. His skin was ruddy and leathery from years of grueling work. A dirty smith's apron covered his front, and even here, he swung his worn hammer aimlessly through the air.

"Flame, dear flame," he muttered.

"Right, that's everybody," Lex said once the scholars had stopped shuffling awkwardly. "So I didn't mention to all of your what our goal is here. Long story short, I was brought here from the past. Incidentally, it turns out that it also happened to be another world.

Our objective here is to develop the means to travel between worlds at will, permanently and without the use of soapstones or eye orbs – at least not in their current forms. In addition to returning me home, this opens new avenues for the exchange of knowledge and resources. I suspect many of you have heard of Lordran, land of the first Lords. In my own world, I stopped its final dissolution. The libraries of the Lords will be open to you, among other things.

Carhillion, you may study alone in the Regal Archives if you wish. There are other scholars there who do the same.

Rosabeth, you want to learn sorcery but find your enthusiasm works better with pyromancy. My youngest sister-in-law can help you channel those emotions into sorcery just as easily.

Felkin, there is an ongoing effort to seal away the unbroken Abyss beneath New Londo. Perhaps instead, you could lull it into peacefulness.

Grandahl, I've thought for a while about what might interest you. The greatest benefit of the Dark is its infinite depth, which can hold all things. You complained that working toward this goal would only benefit you if we succeeded, so I'm going to show you the full spectrum of Dark. Not only will I introduce you to the second Dark Lord when we succeed, but before then, I'll introduce you to Nadalia and Alsanna, fragments of the first Dark Lord who exist in this world.

Straid, I'm sure I don't have to convince you.

Mytha, as it happens, my wife and most of her siblings were transformed into demons with various deformities. We are of course looking into a more permanent solution, but for now, we have sorceries that can hide your current form. As long as you don't throw your head at someone."

Carhillion stared at him in tired disbelief.

"That's all well and good," he grumbled, "but do you really expect all of _this_ to work together?"

He gestured to the rest of the table, which consisted of equal parts heretics and monsters.

"I don't, actually. You can all work apart or together or however suits you. Once you make a discovery, however, no matter how small, write it down and leave it here so that everyone can know. I'm not saying to constantly stop to report your progress, but make sure you don't forget to update the others regularly. Now, since I have to keep traveling in order to get a one-of-a-kind magic item from a golem that pretends to be a dragon, I'm appointing a supervisor."

"Appointing a supervisor?" Carhillion continued. "I thought I had left Melfia."

"Don't worry. This is an expert in working alone. Mainly because he kidnapped a _whole lot of people_. He's only here to make sure you're not keeping secrets and to advise. McSeath?"

The half-mad blacksmith looked up. His eyes were blank like a hollow's, but they had a shimmering reflection. Looking closer, they had become flawless crystal balls, shining with soul energy.

"Flame…" McDuff rumbled.

He took a deep, hissing breath.

"The pursuit of Flame is our objective," he continued, his voice taking on some of Seath's usual rasp. "Even those of you who seek Dark pursue Flame. Dark is a quiet, sleepy force; it is the Flame in you that gives you the ambition to seek that lackadaisical power. We are all here because of our burning desire. The Chosen Undead – or rather – the Monarch-to-be is interesting, yes, but I don't think myself alone in caring not at all for his plight.

We are here because he has given us hope, given us light, given us the spark of a Flame that will consume us if we do not solve the mysteries surrounding him. I have lived many lifetimes, but there is always more to discover. The possibility of opening whole other worlds to exploration is more than I could have ever dreamed."

"Blowhard," Carhillion grumbled. "I thought I had left pompous lectures behind at the Academy."

"N-now just hold on there," Felkin eked out. "Flame is tied to Dark, but it does not lead to it."

"No, this falsehood within a falsehood is correct," Grandahl said flatly. "Most find Dark because they grow too close to the Flame. They desire too much and are burned black. Rare are those whose natures align with the true Dark as yours does. Truly, a bumbler such as yourself falling into its deepest depths is a matter of luck. A shame that only shows how much it favors you."

A crooked smile worked its way across the smith's face.

"Yes, Flame is a much harsher power. It demands one make his own luck. Birthright will not save one from exile. The best intentions lead only to hell. Absolute power lasts only for one day. I alone have weathered the night to follow. Worshiping it will not save you from its ever-hungry maw."

"False Man,"Grandahl said, smirking and stroking his beard, "while we are making unsubstantiated claims, I have borne witness to a night beyond. A night everlasting, as the Flame is washed away."

Lex quirked an eyebrow while Seath continued the argument. After mulling it over for a moment, he unslung his sword and slapped it against the table leg, causing an awful racket.

"All right, reign it in. You can kill each other when we're done. Grandahl is actually correct for the original timeline, but Seath survives because he always does, and none of that matters anyway since the original timeline is in tatters by this point. Darkdiver, I'll go over a few things with you once I've met with the Queen. For now, just try to put up with the sociopathic dragon. He doesn't sound like much, but he did bang a goddess once."

"Oh, we did-"

"I absolutely don't want to hear about it."


	16. Lex doesn't need the Eye of the Tiger

"Are you ready?"

West from the crossroads, under the old aqueduct, past a flexile sentry, and up a hill into a hidden alcove lay the Shrine of Winter. What had once been an isolated structure was now the main path to the castle, thanks to fallen rubble. Of course, such an obstacle would have been nothing to a pair of Lords, but it was the Shrine they had come for.

"Any anxiety that may appear to afflict me is less than my will to continue."

The building was upheld by columns into which writing dragons had been carved. On the walls were ancient tablets describing their defeat, but they were so worn as to be unreadable. In the center was the customary altar of headless serpents which led to another land. Lex held his hand to the basin, and the ash swept out to cast them through space.

They found themselves on a snowy plateau. Before them was an enormous keep, the only blemish on the immaculately white plain. It was unthinkable that a living being could cross the ice to reach civilization. All the better to suppress the Life Soul.

At the foot of the bridge was a great iron gate. Lex started forward, but Safiya used her long legs to quickly outpace him. He nodded quietly and followed along, waiting as she opened the gate. There was a winding stair on the other side with a bonfire at the top. The Undead quickly lit it while the Old One continued onward.

The main gate to the keep was enormous, if not so ostentatious as that of the Iron King. A sheet of ice had frozen over it and the surrounding wall, completely preventing passage. Undaunted, Safiya continued. A column of light shrieked from the gate as she approached, and a wave of frost exploded outward, washing over the pair. When the cloud had passed, the gate had opened a crack, ice tearing out in the shape of a tree's roots.

A woman's voice whispered through the whole of the fortress, " _You, approaching Eleum Loyce. Turn back. The Old Chaos hungers still._ "

The Lost Sinner winced, and the maggot in her eye socket burst out, laughing with a horrible chattering noise. Without hesitation, she flipped her sword in her hand and bashed the pommel into the socket, eliciting a pained squeal as the creature withdrew. Lex grimaced.

"You know, I could help with that. I'm not great at it, but I can do a bit of sealing."

"It is fine. As you said, we need power. I must rule this madness or surely perish, for if it does not consume me, I will fall to any of the other evils in this world. And then the beast shall be without a master."

They entered through the narrow opening in the gate. There were towers in the distance, but not much could be seen for the whirling snowstorm that raged within. Safiya promptly took the left-hand path down the stairs and toward a fog gate.

"Hold on a minute!" Lex said quickly. "Do you have a plan for dealing with Aava's invisibility?"

"That is unnecessary. A dead thing or an automata would be difficult, but a beast is very much alive. Following Aava's heartbeat and breathing should pose no problem for you and I."

"Oh, right. I think I remember something about that. Like why you can only find Quelana when you've upgraded your pyromancy enough. We'd be pretty good at that with the Witch's soul, wouldn't we?"

Safiya nodded subtly.

" _Go back,_ " the voice rang out. " _Aava is watching. Go back._ "

Beyond the fog was a long curved stretch leading to an enormous building in the distance. The path was lined on both sides with statues of bearded sorcerers, worn by the eternal storm.

" _Poor Aava,_ " the voice cooed, " _do you miss your king? One without the sign has arrived. Do be merciful, and end things swiftly._ "

"Lady Oracle!" Safiya barked. "Focus your senses! I fear the seal may be weaker than we had hoped if you cannot feel even my soul!"

Her voice cracked across the howling storm, but there was no response from the unseen speaker. When they were midway across, something kicked up snow that had settled on the path. Though utterly invisible, the junior Lord was correct – the beast's heartbeat thrummed in Lex's head. He had never noticed before, but all his senses were keenly attuned to the force of life itself. With his sight not working, his hearing and the Undead's sense for souls picked up the slack.

He could hear the bristling of coarse fur, limned with ice. He could hear the slow, powerful breathing feeding tensed thews. He could hear the tongue lick at fangs like scimitars. He could hear the claws dig into the stone.

"Forgive me, noble Aava."

Safiya flung herself at the beast, sprinting across the pathway with speed more resembling the legendary swordsman Alonne than the lethargic movement of her own boss fight. Her style of swordsmanship was distinctively Loyce, however. As she reached the King's Pet, she kicked off the ground and whirled through the air to hammer her long sword overhead.

"What," Lex said flatly.

The saber-toothed tiger roared in pain and fury as the blade ate into its back. It whipped around to swipe the exile away, but a blood-colored nimbus of power surrounded the Sinner, making her stronger and faster. She skipped back and out of range, so the tiger did the same, leaping back to prepare its defenses. The beast roared and arced its head through the air, creating floating icicles that resembled crystal soul masses.

"Yo, Safiya."

The tiger lunged forward again, trying to tear through the expatriate's body with its swordlike fangs. The Sinner swept low to the ground, slipping under its body. With a stomp, she ratcheted her sword upward into the beast's belly, throwing it aside.

"You know, Safiya, the Kaio-Ken is cool and all, but-"

The Sinner dodged one way and the other as the icicles homed on her. As she neared, the tiger howled, unleashing a wave of power. Already mid-leap, there was nothing that could be done to avoid the attack. The Old One took the blast, quickly tucking into a ball and flipping backward before skidding to a stop. The attack would have been deadly to an Undead, but even a diminished Lord of this time was more powerful than a mere beast. She quickly cartwheeled around and swiped across its foreleg.

"You know what? This is fine."

Lex took up his talisman, raising it above his head. The gold hem glinted with its own light, and the whole thing seemed to generate its own heat, sublimating the snow.

 _Life's a kind of struggle,_

 _Living in this town._

 _I'm never looking back,_

 _No, just ahead._

 _My mind was locked up in a cage,_

 _Always ready to break out._

 _Those heavy chains on me drive me mad._

 _I wanna be. In. Love tonight._

 _I wanna get you when I got you, gimme just one night._

 _I wanna be. Your. Love tonight._

 _Slave me._

The high priest of Chaos whipped the token like a lash. It sprayed burning strands of silk through the storm. The beast yelped as they bound its limbs and forced a burning collar about its neck. As it struggled, the bindings only burned hotter. The Sinner backed off, glaring at the caster.

"Honorable deaths are overrated," he said, shrugging. "I'm not going to just arbitrarily reduce our war score because of something like dignity."

The tiger was still shaking furiously, trying to break free, but the fog walls dissipated.

Safiya grumbled, "I suppose you have a point. Still, it is disgusting to watch my lord's faithful watcher fall prey to the power it had hunted for so long."

"And it's totally unnatural for someone who fought through the horrors of Oolacile and New Londo to have a creature the Dark ask for a favor instead of foaming at the mouth and trying to French kiss my soul out. It's just something you have to get used to."

"You mentioned that to the old hexer. You said that the lady Oracle is a shard of the Dark Lord. What does that entail, precisely?"

"Well, the first Dark Lord was this big, horrifying monster known as the Father of the Abyss, or the Beast of it. Some sorcerers did something nasty to it, which probably led to the Curse to begin with. The Dark became vicious, and humanity ran wild. It destroyed the entire kingdom. After which, he corrupted the Champion of the Lord of Sunlight.

That was when we arrived. A bunch of us entered the Abyss and killed him. The guy who did the job in this universe wasn't able to absorb the whole soul, however, and fragments of it grew in power and returned to sapience. Alsanna is the embodiment of his Fear. She was hiding before now, wasn't she?"

"She was. The Silent Oracle, who only speaks to the King, and who only rarely makes public appearance. She always cleft to the King's side as if in fear of us, yes."

"Funny thing is, it's probably because she was the embodiment of Fear that she learned to empathize. In all my prophecies, I haven't met anyone as selfless. When the Bearer of the Curse kills the Ivory King and recovers the souls of fifty Loyce Knights, she gives up her own soul and warns about her sisters."

"Truly? I had not thought so highly of her."

They passed through an archway into a short guard station. A winding staircase led to the Grand Cathedral of Eleum Loyce. Beyond the typically oversized iron double door was a narrow passage leading to a bonfire overlooked by a statue. Lex looked up idly, then grimaced.

"The heck is that! Jaimie Hyneman?"

The statue of the old pontiff with the shepherd's crook was distinctly not human. The head was wide, with a ridged plate at the center. Beneath it hung two segmented tendrils, and on the sides were bulging eyes.

"In the beginning," the high priestess said solemnly, "we were both men and women of the cloth. With time, however, it became apparent that men were more susceptible to the Old Chaos' influence. They began to grow mad or mutate or worse. For women, the corruption was internalized. It is as with Fire Keepers.

The man you see before you resisted to the last. Even as his body become a horrid creature of Chaos, his will was unbroken. It was only when his entire body became a monstrous insect that we were forced to end his life. You see now why I have trouble trusting that you control the immense power within you."

"No, you're right. Sometimes it's hard keeping my skin on. Most of my innards are wood now. Mostly, I can keep the impulses under control, but when I first absorbed the soul, I lost myself in my basest instincts. With time distorted, there's no telling how long I was a beast ruled by impulse."

"How did you recover?"

"The Chaos Flame is hungry. I sated my own desires completely, and it became tame."

"How?! If there is a solution, no matter how imprecise, it could prove invaluable!"

"Well, I don't want to brag, but that whole 'no telling how long' thing. Yeah. I'm pretty sure Laag and I set the world record for single longest sex session."

"You stopped the source of Chaos itself with something so base?!"

"Actually, no. That's where it started and where it ended. It was total emotional fulfillment. We laughed, we cried, we bonded in a way that can only be done by sharing a soul. The bond between pyromancer master and apprentice, who share a Flame, is a taste of what we experienced.

This is how the Lord of Sunlight tried to ensure the loyalty of his greatest subjects. As it turns out, being like him doesn't necessarily mean being loyal to him. The Ivory King is the reincarnation of one of these subjects. He shared Gwyn's fate of struggling to contain the Chaos without truly defeating it."

"Is it hopeless, then?" Safiya asked stoically. "Or will you run roughshod over this fate as well?

"Kejak can bite me. Fate is for cowards afraid of the consequences of their own decisions. That was the appeal of the Chaos Gods. Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven and all that. Of course, the irony is that those who ascend into daemon princes give up their free will. In any case, none of that is relevant, because my god is either fake or doesn't exist in this dimension. Pray it's the first one."

Either direction around the central pillar led to a second door, and beyond that was the audience hall. Tall glass windows ensured the room was well-lit, but it was no warmer than the outside. At the end of a faded red carpet was a dais where a petitioner could be heard, but the stairs leading to the altar were flooded with snow and wrapped with more ice in the shape of roots. Strangely enough, there was no reaction as the pair approached the dais. It was only once Safiya had set foot on it that the disembodied voice chimed in.

" _To think that Aava could be-_ "

Surprise turned to fear.

" _You! Why have you returned?_ _Without its core, the Chaos is passive and directionless. Now, it will begin to reach out for what it has lost. You must hurry; my concentration is already utterly focused on the throne. Should the Chaos find another way out, we will be overwhelmed._ "

The Lost Sinner begrudgingly took a knee.

"My lady Oracle, I would not have returned without good reason. I bring with me one who claims dominion over the Chaos."

" _What dominion? It is a force of madness._ "

"So is the Dark," Lex said, smirking up at the platform. "Your Father's rampage and spread of the Abyss was hardly less destructive than the creation of Chaos. It was just more subtle."

" _Who are you to know my Father?_ "

"I come from another world and another time. I led the party that put your Father down. We did the same to the Bed from which Chaos sprung. I took half of its power for myself. Between the High Priestess and myself, we might be able to contain this new Chaos. Worst case, we give the Ivory King a rest."

" _Then I fear your experience leads you to underestimate this Chaos. It is a thing far greater than my Father. You have no party to aid you here. It is a risk for you, tainted as you are to approach it. It is worse for the Priestess, who bears a part of it within herself and whose soul was used to ignite it._ "

"See, the thing is, this Chaos looks bad. It looks far more powerful than the old Bed. But where are its demons? Even if it's just that it lost that power with the maggot core, it's practically defenseless. We don't need an army to take it down like Gwyn did with the original."

" _My Lord and his knights-_ "

"Are really cool, but too slow to be really threatening."

"Prophet, should we not consider being more cautious, consi-"

"God, fine, Mom. We'll go get the surviving Loyce Knights first so they can seal the portals. We better be able to just dump all the Loyce souls out of the Chaos when we take control, because I am absolutely not grinding those a second time."


	17. Son of Succoria

The Lost Sinner kept to herself as they progressed through the frozen city. Though Alsanna had dispersed the storm, the once-proud fortress was still buried beneath snow and ice. The knowledge that this was all done to contain what she had created weighed heavily upon her. Lex, for his part, kept the jokes to a minimum. Though the remaining Loyce Knights were hardly excited to be stirred from their slumber by demons, they understood the situation.

They would fight fire with fire. Like it or not, it was their last chance. With the nameless High Priestess, they might seal the Old Chaos at last. Each of the three solemnly warped away with a sorcerous form of Homeward, returning to meet the last of their number in the true throne room. Behind the altar was a simple room where four seats faced a hole in the center.

Beside each seat stood a knight. As the pair approached, they readied their weapons. Safiya was the first to go, unafraid and full of rage. Without hesitation, she plunged into the pit. Lex and the Knights followed, a step behind.

The pit, though impossibly deep, was not dark at all. Rather, a red light glowed through the icy mist. After several seconds of falling, a sea of lava burned through the fog, and they landed like thunder atop a long stone platform with a ring at its center. The platform did not merely sit upon the sea – it stood at the center of a depression in the cavern while the magma roiled about it, as if it were at the heart of a whirlpool. Above wound the roots of a Chaos tree so large that it dwarfed the ancient Bed like the Lords dwarfed the pygmies. Three gateways about the ring burned with black flame, and more Loyce Knights, charred black, emerged.

"Safiya, do you want to fight, or do you want sealing duty?"

"If you possess the power, allow me lay these brave souls to rest."

Lex nodded and dashed to the nearest portal, rolling under a poleaxe swing and kicking the knight toward his uncorrupted counterparts. He held his talisman up high and began tracing patterns in the forbidden flame. Golden runes sank into the eddies, binding the roiling fire with nails of faith.

 _Oh-woah-woah-oh,_

 _I,_

 _I just died in your arms tonight._

 _It must have been something you said._

 _I just died in your arms tonight._

 _Oh-woah-woah-oh,_

 _I,_

 _I just died in your arms tonight_

 _It must have been some kind of kiss_

 _I should have walked away_

 _I should have walked away_

Safiya's whole body throbbed. The Chaos maggot in her head burned in sympathy with its severed roots. She internalized the pain, letting it twist her muscles like the gnarled tree. Two of the loyal knights had broadswords, one had a poleaxe, and the last had a halberd. The charred knights had a broadsword, poleaxe, and pyromancy flame.

It was this last one the she struck at first, before it could pose any danger. Her lunge slung her over the broadsword knight. With a flip, she stomped him into the ground to propel herself faster. Her sin-eating sword tore through the fired, brittle armor like a lance as she took the pyromancer to the ground. A violent twist severed his spine and launched the halves into the air.

Not waiting, she turned to face the remaining two. The broadsword knights charged the charred knight with the poleaxe, staying near and preventing him from swinging. Likewise, the poleaxe and halberd knights struck at the charred straightsword knight before he could reach them. It was too easy. Even as two more corrupted knights emerged from the portals Lex hadn't reached yet, the Sinner almost couldn't remember why they had been so afraid of the Chaos.

She had grown that strong since her exile. The beating pulse of madness in her head no longer threatened to overwhelm her. The wild, cancerous force of nature bent to her will. The Prophet was right – without any sort of demonic guardians, the Chaos hardly seemed a threat. It was no match for the great King who had once been the greatest knight of a land known for its god of war.

That, of course, was why it was so dangerous. It was a wildfire of the mind, a contagion that spread uncontrollably from her to all her people. Ostensibly, the great fortress was to keep out those who would seek the Chaos. In truth, it was to quarantine the infected. The Ivory King's very soul had shielded the people of Eleum Loyce, keeping the brunt of the madness from them.

With the King's final desperate charge, it was of course only a matter of time before the city became the abandoned ruin it was now. Perhaps if she had stayed, she could have turned the Chaos against itself as the Prophet said, as she did now. She steeled herself as her blade tore through black armor. Such thoughts weren't worth entertaining.

Who could say what would have happened differently? It was her choice in becoming an executioner that had strengthened her soul this much. She could not resist the full power of Chaos when she left; who is to say if she would have become strong enough to do so had she stayed? With the battle swiftly drawing to a close, the loyal Loyce Knights glanced at her in suspicion. Countless years spent and lives lost, only to be saved effortlessly by the author of their misfortune.

Her reverie was interrupted by a blaring sound like a foghorn. A spike of carved stone surged up out of the lava toward the fore of the platform. The stones revolved along the pillar's axis as it rose, like a screw twisting up through the flame. A second pillar rose opposite it, and betwixt them, a wall of black flame emerged. From its heart, it spat a narrow beam of flame, connecting it to the arena.

Then from the Dark, it came, a puppet soul of the Chaos Flame. The Ivory King – or what was left – emerged from the humanity-filled inferno. At first, it was difficult to make out the figure, charred armor shrouded in black-red flame and a blood-colored aura of madness. The King walked slowly but surely, neither eager to fight, nor wishing to turn away from it. A wave of the slagged ultra-greatsword extinguished the flames, leaving the caped figure to stand gallantly against the backdrop of burning ruin.

Charge to a sweeping one-handed swing. Safiya quickly sidestepped but was thrown off-balance by the difference in posture. She had never before faced a truly dangerous southpaw, and here she was facing a knight-King who had never lost. A right-handed foe would have been exposed for a counterattack, but the wavy lump of steel which was all that was left of the King's sword didn't waver. As she tried to formulate a plan of attack, the charge turned to a spinning leap, the slab hammering down onto her own blade.

She'd tasted the lives of countless sinners, but what could she do against the hero-King, the commander of a legion of martyrs? Guilt for her ancient crime gurgled up her throat. She hesitated, and the warped steel sparked up her sword and took her right arm off. Choking, she couldn't even scream. The King's face was cold and unchanged, carved in relief on a helmet never removed.

She grabbed her arm before it hit the ground and evaded a second swing. She had been preparing herself for this since she had met the Prophet, but thinking of doing something and actually doing it were entirely different matters. She could kill the King's pets, slaughter the martyred Knights, and if need be, slay the sacred Oracle in cold blood. She could not harm the King who had offered her mercy when she deserved none, who had died to contain what she had created. The Loyce Knights, who had dreamt of this moment for centuries, had no such compunctions.

They moved with the practiced union of a dance troupe, the swords lancing into the King's side while the polearms arced down from above. The swordsmen blocked a retaliatory swipe with their bucklers while the axeman and halbedier whisked their weapons around the sides for a pincer attack. Such a coordinated attack would have spelled the end for a lesser foe, but the peerless knight-King was too fast, even without invoking the power of Chaos. As she watched in awe and horror, Safiya jumped when something touched her. He had to levitate himself in the air to do it, but Lex had placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I take it you've never caught a Pokemon before. I'll show you how to then. First, you need to weaken the target Pokemon. LEX used METAL SOUND."

He screamed into his talisman and pointed his sword at the King. The air shimmered and glowed from the Chaotic soundwave, blasting the armored figure back like a gale wind.

 _Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah!_

 _Sorry._

 _I did not mean_

 _To blow your mind,_

 _But that shit happens to me_

 _All the tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime!_

The Loyce Knights took advantage of the gap to thrash the King with abandon. After several moments of getting bashed between them, armor riddled with holes, the warrior leapt backward, approaching the edge of the platform.

"This is your show," Lex said confidently, stabbing his sword into the stone. "I've beaten the Ivory King before, and I can do it again, but that's not what matters. This is your chance to make things right, right? You save the King, and I'll take care of the Bed."

"The Bed?" Safiya said skeptically, regaining her focus.

"The Seedbed. Of Chaos."

"Can you handle it on your own?" she murmured, gesturing to the entire cavern.

"I can try," the prophet said, smirking as he unbuckled his breastplate.

Next went the jerkin under the armor, and with that, he was topless. With a groan, he clawed at his Darksign and reached into his soul itself. The font of Chaos within him burbled and spat lava as he pulled, drawing out a strangle, paddle-like instrument. It looked like a lute carved of ebony, only its neck alone was as long as a broadsword. He slid a strap over his neck and held a shard of razor obsidian to strings which by their scent were clearly locks of a woman's hair.

 _Demonette's Greataxe_

 _Forbidden ritual instrument of Izalith._

 _Use to command the demonic legions_

 _with the shrieking howls of Chaos._

 _In the grim Dark of the far future,_

 _men will compose a song so powerful_

 _that echoes of it reverberate backward_

 _through history._

 _This is not the greatest song in the world._

 _This is just a tribute._

As the Chaos King began playing, the thing unleashed horrifying wails at a volume far too great to be produced by even an instrument of that size. The entire cavern moaned as if waking from hibernation brought on by Alsanna's blizzard. The roots of the Bed stirred and began to stir ripples in the lava. The maggot in the Sinner's eye wriggled to the surface and stared at the playing. The warped runes of Chaos seared the air, blasting through the cave on the backs of the intermittent sonic booms.

The power of Chaos flooded the chasm as the Old Chaos roared to life with the vigor of the Bed's birth. The Sinner's severed arm reattached of its own will, and the King's wounds seared shut with a flash of flame. As Safiya gripped her sword, it sparked with the dormant magic in her inherited soul. At first, it burned with Chaos, but the Sin within her profaned it, turning it to a cold and pure flame. She stepped forward again as the Ivory King's own sword roared with frozen, sorcerous fire.

The Loyce Knight steeled themselves for the honorable deaths they had waited an eternity for. The Sinner would not let them settle for death. As their lord drove through their bucklers, she dove between two of them, lancing her long sword into the King's side. The Knights scattered, knowing there was little they could do in a fight between self-healing monsters. They held their weapons aloft and fired a volley of soul spears, following the pair as the Sinner drove forward.

She quickly flipped out of the way of the spears. They drove right on through the puppet King, who didn't so much as flinch but instead crouched and launched into a spinning leap. The slagged sword itself was terribly heavy and large as a man, but the flashing ivory aura about it made it the length and width of a mature tree. It was not a weapon which could be blocked, so Safiya instead deliberately fat-rolled forward, timing it so that she raised her sword as the King landed, driving it to the hilt through the scorched armor.

It was a trap. The King, unstunned, grabbed her by the head and lifted her into the air. She screamed as ice spikes burst throughout her body, formed from her own blood. Her flame burned all the brighter, and the blood crystals melted back into her, tongues of fire lapping at her wounds. She shook herself free and slashed up defensively before leaning into the blade and driving it forward again.

The High Priestess and the King exchanged a flurry of blows. They were evenly matched for now, but parasitic nature of the Sinner's Chaotic blade was quickly wearing on her. She still wasn't used to using her inherited power, so its strengthening wasn't the help it could have been. Above, the roots of a tree without a trunk flailed blindly, causing parts of the roof to drop unexpectedly, taking chunks out of the platform. The Prophet was safe, a bubble of horrible sound shredding anything that drew near his playing, but the Loyce Knights were forced to look up and intersperse their sorceries with dodging.

The ring was beginning to crumble, and already one of the sealed gateways had been utterly destroyed by a falling boulder. The King twirled through the air, hammering a powerful sidelong strike as the Sinner whipped across with a lightning slash. She fell to one knee while the puppet ruler simply turned and prepared to attack again, paying no heed as a soul spear crashed against it. Already on the ground, she rolled out of the way of the first slash. The second missed her entirely.

The King leapt into the third, preparing to finish her off, but she rolled onto her back, propping her sword against the stone. The mindless flesh doll screamed as it came down onto the burning blade, pinning itself.

"Remember yourself!" the Old One commanded.

Her one blue eye stared into the expressionless mask, and the demon in her eye stared into the trapped soul within. The executioner kicked the body off its beheading blade and spun the weapon in her hand once before hammering down the severing blow. The Sinner had grown too used to the Prophet's idealism. Capture, certainly, but no one said that the King needed be unharmed. Sparks sprayed across her face, and the ruler collapsed, legless.

The Bed above gurgled in fury, and the roots lashed fruitlessly at the platform, just out of their reach. With no direct avenue of attack, the main portal flared up, and countless charred Loyce Knights began pouring out. Lex stopped playing for a moment, before continuing.

 _Don't lose your way!_

The new spell crippled the corrupted Knights as they reached the platform, while the loyal Knights took up positions on the edge. The Ivory King roared at Safiya's feet, clawing blindly. She kicked the severed legs where they couldn't reattach themselves, then knelt before the mad puppet.

"Remember yourself, lord."

She stared at the mask again, willing the maggot in her eye to release its counterpart's restraints. The creature was effectively charmed by the Prophet's playing, but too much power was bound up in the magic for it to simply be turned off. One of the loyal Knights saw what she was trying to do and motioned to the others. They stopped for a moment to think about it before joining her. After all, their fallen brethren lost more control as they drew closer to the Prophet, with the nearest slumped over and wholly immobile.

"Aava! Lud! Zallen!"

Moments later, the Chaos-tamed beasts touched down on the platform, having been waiting patiently above. They had been left behind in order to keep their size from being a hindrance during the fight, but now that didn't matter. The King shrieked something incomprehensible when they landed.

"What are you waiting for, Ora-?!"

Alsanna had descended on Aava's back, it turned out. The Chaos screamed as it watched its sealer, unable to reach her. Safiya approached the King and utilized the same technique the Prophet had used on her. The Oracle approached timidly. She looked more wasted away than the living puppet.

"My dear lord…"

The King stopped struggling. The mask faced the kneeling Knights and the seated beasts before turning to the frail Child of Dark.

"Aaaaaaaaaalsaaaaaaannnaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

The Oracle struggled at first, but quickly removed the King's helmet, as large as her entire torso. The face within had never before been seen by the people of Eleum Loyce, so the Knights and the High Priestess instinctively looked away. The Chosen Undead was too curious not to look. As it happened, the Ivory King was perfectly androgynous. Fierce features on a soft face, piercing blue eyes like the Sinner's, and short black bob cut that could either be feminine or just a ridiculous medieval men's hairstyle.

"All of you," the King rasped, throat dry as kindling, "what-?"

Alsanna quickly took to the King's side, at once hugging and hiding from the others. Safiya backed off and stood awkwardly to the side, positioning herself to block line of sight to the severed legs.

"What has happened?" the King continued, leaning on one arm. "I still feel the Chaos' presence in me, but I can think. What is that song?"

Lex nodded toward the paralyzed charred Knights, and kept playing and singing.

"Please, do not disturb the Prophet, lord," Safiya said stiltedly. "It is a miracle that this is working at all. Hurry out of here, all of you. We cannot know if the effects of the Prophet's song will last."

The Loyce Knights saluted and hefted the King (and Alsanna) onto Aava's back. One joined them for support while the other three split between Lud and Zallen. At the Oracle's gesture, a beam of light shone down from the hole in the cavern ceiling. The three beasts marched to the rear of the platform and into the light, beaming to the surface in an instant. With the King saved, Safiya joined Lex as he stared up at the main body of the Bed.

"How shall we handle this? Your methods, though neglected to inform me of any of them, have proved effective thus far."

"I have no idea," Lex squeezed out between lines. "Last time, the solution was killing the core, but killing you won't stop this one. Straight-up, after beating the Ivory King, the Bearer of the Curse just leaves with the Chaos sitting there and Eleum Loyce unsealed. Seriously, that's like a world record for bad idea in a land of bad ideas."


	18. Friend or traitor, come

"So as a Fire/Bug type, a Chaos Maggot has a double weakness to Rock, so I should continue jamming."

"Can you not be serious for more than a few minutes at a time? Is the strain too much for you to bear?"

"Okay, let me rephrase that," Lex sighed, transitioning into an indefinite refrain. "I did foresee this. How the Old Chaos simply _goes away_ has been something I've wondered about for a long time. Problem is that I never exactly figured out how it would work out. I'm here for whatever you need me to do, but you're the expert.

My elder sister-in-law, Quelara, has been tutoring me on the theory, but I still only understand the basics of how Chaos was created. Controlling or extinguishing something of this size is beyond me."

The Sinner grimaced.

"I fear that makes two of us. So be it. Since the Oracle hardly seems to have the power to recapture what we have loosed, I shall endeavor, as before, to correct my own mistake. Keep the knights docile. I will enter the heart chamber."

Lex abruptly changed the song he was playing. He stamped his foot like a heartbeat and strummed a few slow, quiet chords on his axe.

"Hm. Dagoth Ur's words are… strangely appropriate… They resonate with Vendrick's."

The pounding of his foot and the rising notes stirred the charred Loyce Knights. Safiya felt her own heartbeat quicken, and the throbbing of the Chaos Maggot in her head grew worse. Flame came to her blade unbidden.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, clutching her head at focal points indicated by her tattoos.

The prophet stopped his playing, but kept stamping his foot, keeping the beat of the song.

"I'm playing the song of my people. I may or may not have changed the national anthem of Izalith to this."

"Is it supposed to be making this worse?"

The roots of the Chaos grew and stretched toward the platform even as it crumbled. Jets of flame hot enough to melt the durable stone tore across its sides and through the open air."

"It may or may not resonate with the heartbeat of a Chaos god. Randomness favors the underdog. Go on; I can handle a few knights. Maybe start collecting their rings like Tsorig."

The Sinner scowled but hurried to the edge of the platform. With a word, she forced open the portal from which the King had come. Into the Dark which fueled the Chaos, she charged across the bridge of flame. The shadows rippled like water and splashed as she broke through the surface of space itself, to the heart of the Chaos beyond. The roots of the Bed had descended far below the city, and there, at its weakest, the Knights of Eleum Loyce had made their final stand.

It was just beyond the cathedral itself that the seeds had been planted and buried. There, at the mass grave of a forgotten battle, that she who would become the high priestess tried to recreate the First Flame using the humanity of the fallen. She had sought to justify such loss of life, but in doing so, she had created a parasitic monstrosity which would lead to even more death and despair. The heart chamber was like a furnace, black with humanity as if smoke and with a raging flame all about. All the roots traced back to the center, where the maggot was noticeably absent.

It clawed and writhed in her eye socket, desperate to return to its proper seat. She would indulge it, to some degree. The Sinner approached the center, unflinching as small roots burst from the walls, ceiling, and floor to dig into her tattooed flesh at key points, drinking her blood and taking control of her nervous system to use as a vessel as the first Bed had used the ancient Witch. Her sharp blue eye wavered as the maggot emerged, clicking with glee. Slowly becoming cognizant of the great organism of which she was now a part, she struggled to maintain her identity under the burden of countless Dark souls.

She could feel it responding to her will, the horrific living archtree swaying as she dictated. She could sense the prophet below, playing yet another song as he bludgeoned the tainted Knights into submission with his instrument itself.

"Kabong!"

She felt it weighing upon her, the countless lives within the Dark catalyzing the Chaos' urges. Her primal emotions flushed to the surface, and she wondered how the prophet had borne the burden of even half of such a thing. Fortunately, as with the Chosen Undead before her, the Lost Sinner's root emotions were not of the sort which the hungry Chaos would find useful. The newlyweds lost themselves in an end to loneliness and a sharing of burdens. The Sinner, who had slain so many others, wished only to die.

The roots unfurled, losing their purchase in the magma-weakened earth. Stone wood cracked and rent asunder as the maggot cried out in desperation at what it had wrought. Its host would not remain in control for long, but the damage she would do before she was consumed could prove fatal. The great stump that was the Old Chaos, stunted without its maggot heart, collapsed into the sea of lava which had formed beneath it over the centuries. A ripple shot out about it, slowly washing over the platform.

By now, the host of the Chaos was too lost to herself to care for the prophet's safety. This was her burden, and she would destroy it before it could destroy the world. If she could not control it, then she had no choice but to use her own body as the vessel for a new seal. It would never die until its tremendous fuel had been utterly exhausted, but she could seal it beneath the enormity of its own power, beneath fire and stone.

She flexed its roots until they cracked, and the stump sank deeper as its hollows filled with lava. The charred Loyce Knights were dying at last, even their scorched bodies unable to suffer total immersion in the burning sea. Their souls were swept along slow currents and returned to her so that they might live again in time. Only, that time would not come beneath the vermillion depths. As her consciousness sank beneath the Chaos, she beheld one final thing, a silhouette of rapid movement flitting atop the churning lava.

"Boo-oo-oo-oo-yah!"

Kicking up a spray behind him, Lex turned about, riding around and down the slow waves. He kicked back, unleashing a jet of flame behind him to speed his otherwise slow pace. Mere stone or even the mightiest geisteel of the age was no match for the heat of the Chaos flame, which could kill a man even at great distance. The mighty titanite blades of the Great Lord's elite were another story. The Black Knight greatsword cut across. the lava just as easily as through demon flesh.

As a wave rushed beneath him, the demon prince blasted forward with another burst of flame, soaring through the air and performing an elaborate spinning flip. The flailing of the roots churned the sea as it tried to save itself, but he whipped one way and another. At last, he found what he was looking for and leapt into the molten stone. Though swimming through the molten stone ought have been impossible, his strokes pushed the lava away with the power of a Lord. He sank to the base of the stump and forced it open, swimming through winding tunnels to reach the heart chamber.

The Sinner barely stirred, but the maggot went wild. Roots erupted from all sides to try and possess this stronger and more covetous host. Yet the first root to pierce his flesh recoiled as if struck. Though separated by a vast gulf of time, traces of the guardian and Queen of Izalith lingered on him, and the mere threat of her possessive wrath was more than the younger Chaos dared challenge. With the lava all around him making weapon use difficult, to say nothing of playing his magical music, Lex struggled to pull Safiya free with raw strength alone.

He was no longer the weakling he had been when he arrived in Lordran, but his strength was merely average for a warrior. It could not budge the Chaos which had physically taken root in the priestess' body. Still, the jostling stirred her senses.

" _Why?_ " her voice resonated through the whole of the chamber. " _Outside, I may be slain and this power taken. Here, it can be sealed to fade away for eternity._ "

Her words were coolly logical as ever, but in the depths of Chaos, her hidden despair and self-loathing seeped into her tone.

" _Because, like it or not, you're 'ohana – and nothing is more important in Izalith._ "

"' _O…ha…na…?_ "

" _'Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten. Come on, let's get these Loyce souls topside._ "

The Sinner's one eye slid open. Lex extended a hand to her as he floated away. With concentrated effort, Safiya jerked additional slack from the roots embedded in her flesh. The prophet gripped his gold-hemmed black talisman in his free hand as she pulled at the other. Golden rays shone through the sickly orange as a powerful Homeward spell tore them from the Bed. The Sinner's flesh burned as the roots were abruptly gone and the bonfire violently repaired the damage.

She collapsed, gasping from the shock, but was otherwise unharmed. Having thoroughly lost, the maggot had retreated into her eye to sulk. After several seconds, she rose, and they reentered the great hall. The King lay against Aava, armor stripped and legs bandaged with ancient banners. The armor's removal did nothing to resolve the matter of the hero-knight's androgyny. The other two pets and the four remaining knights stood at the ready in case some nightmare rose from the pit beneath the cathedral while the Silent Oracle tended to the King.

"Aloha!"

The guards nearly jumped out of their furs and armors at the surprise greeting from behind. The former priestess quickly knelt in apology, but the foreign royal just waved pleasantly.

"Ah," the King said, voice cracking, "my old friend, you have returned. How did you… escape…?"

The words were coming difficultly to the King, who had been ruled by Chaos for centuries.

"I have King Lex of Izalith to thank for my survival," the priestess said, introducing him properly. "'Twas he who saved me from my self-pity in the dungeons of Alken. He has been a stalwart and insightful companion for my journey hence."

"You have… my thanks…" the King wheezed. "I would rise to greet you, but I don't think I'll be rising any time soon."

The knight gestured to the bloody stumps which had been legs.

"Nah, you'll be fine. I just need to figure out how to travel back to Izalith. I can get you some solid prosthetics, or we can try the experimental regrowing procedure if you're up for getting juiced full of Chaos again."

"I am afraid I will decline that… particular offer," the King said, grinning weakly. "Alas, there is not much left to pay for such treatment… or even reward your valor. It is the end… I think… of Eleum Loyce. I trust you have dealt with the Chaos. It wounds me… to have failed when you succeeded so swiftly.

Still… there is no purpose for this wretched fortress of ice now. The threat of the Chaos is gone… as are the brave souls who stood against it. I will… live out what remains of the life you saved in obscurity. It will pain me to give up the sword… but I have held an interest in painting for long. Perhaps it is the right time to learn."

Lex shrugged.

"We're all about investing in Izalith right now. Eleum Loyce is gone, but Izalith is on its return. Nearly all of us are affected by Chaos. It'd be a good idea to have someone who escaped it around to advise us when we start to get lost in emotion. The champion of our close ally, Anor Londo, lost his sword arm in an incident several hundred years back.

We've given him an arm of silver. If you come to work for us, your legs could be restored as well. For the meantime, I'll see if I can get a wheelchair from Grandahl."

"That will be quite all right. I have my pets. I will… consider… your offer of employment. I have been gone from the world for long. There is much I must… learn… relearn…"

"Should I call the talking cat to explain everything?"

"That is… unnecessary. If I may borrow your companion for a few hours. That will suffice, I think."

"My lord, I-" Safiya began.

"Do not lie to me, old friend. I know that look of yours. You wish to learn about the wideness of the world. That is good. Return to tell me of what you see."

Safiya frowned.

"It is as you say, lord. I will return when I have learned all there is to know."

The King nodded and turned back to Lex.

"I feel you are like myself… not born to nobility… one who has earned that title… So you will understand if I insist upon a reward. It is… only fair. I have not much, but you are welcome to it."

"Sweet," Lex said, giving a thumbs-up. "Well, first, I need your crown, because it's part of some complicated secret to immortality, related to your past life as a King of New Londo."

The King immediately removed the crown and handed it to Alsanna, who nervously walked over to hand it to the prophet and then practically ran back.

"If this is the end of Eleum Loyce, I have no need for it."

"Great! Next, I actually need something from Alsanna..."


	19. Looks like someone's a yandere

With the looming threat of the Old Chaos dealt with, they passed through the other side of the Shrine of Winter and continued through the darkened mountain tunnel. Some royal soldiers blocked the winding path to Castle Drangleic, but such feeble foes were hardly noticeable. Still, the pitch-black sky, pouring rain, and slick, uneven stairs of black stone set into the mountainside nearly made the climb feel bleaker than any challenge they had faced. The castle sat apart, on a ridge scarcely large enough to hold it, connected to the mountain only by a long, narrow, ascending bridge. Diffuse moonlight struggled to illuminate the black stone, barely shining through the thick clouds. Shanalotte waited at the base of the bridge.

"Bearer of the Curse, do not underestimate the Queen because you know her true form."

"No, I'll underestimate her because I have un-nerfed lightning spears. Her father was dangerous because he was as fast as he was powerful. She's a sitting duck. Now, are you actually going to be helpful, or are you just going to keep using your kage bunshin no jutsu as an orange soapstone?"

She sighed and vanished like smoke.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Toward the top of the bridge stood the towering figures of two primal knights cast in stone.

"Ambush on three. One. Two. Three!"

The knight shook off their coatings of mountain dust and started to swing their great halberds, but their speed was no match for the Chaos Lords. Safiya's sword lunged through the neck of the one on the left, while Lex's unleashed a bass boom that knocked the right clear off the bridge. A pair of crossbow bolts whizzed past, and the travelers rushed ahead.

"See those bowls in the wall on either side of the gate? Kill these guys next to one of them."

Safiya lunged at her foe, lancing her sword ahead and driving the royal swordsman back. Pinned against the castle wall, his souls transferred not to his killer but to the bowl. Lex swatted his foe with the flat of his blade, blasting the hollow back with a sonic wave. Activated by the souls, the crude stone figures on either side of the enormous doors lifted the bowls by their handles and twisted, opening the gold leaf-covered walls of onyx. Inside was a beautiful hall of white stone illuminated by a skylight.

Only, it had been lost to the years. The crimson banners were tattered, and every step they took kicked up a cloud of dust. At the top of a platform reached by mirrored stairs stood some sort of phantom. Lex shook his head and led the way around. A knight with brass armor, a greatshield, and a halberd stomped toward them.

A normal hero would find himself in tight quarters fighting amongst the columns upholding the ceiling. Safiya simply jumped over it, hammering her sword down with enough force to cleave off its shield arm before it dispersed into souls. A second with a sword emerged from the tunnel beyond, but Lex stepped forward to use a sonic-powered guard break before tearing his dao through the exposed knight. They continued through a door on the right, dealing with two royal swordsmen before sliding down a ladder. They crossed through a hallway full of statues of ready spearmen.

At its end, Lex opened the door, then crossed the perpendicular hallway to open another and light a bonfire. Up through the abandoned castle they went, until they stopped before an enormous portrait, a depiction of a woman the size of a Lord. Of course, the two legitimate Chaos Lords were only half and quarter that size.

"There she is, Queen Nashandra of Drangleic. This whole castle is full of really blunt foreshadowing. You know, if you get close to it, it starts cursing you – just so you know for sure that you shouldn't trust the suspiciously unharmed Queen in the abandoned castle."

She stood solemnly, hands folded, on a field of pitch black. A pale woman with platinum blond hair tied in a bun. She wore a white gown lined with gold, but without any complex ornamentation. Perhaps most importantly, she resembled an older and grimmer version of Princess Dusk of Oolacile.

The pair continued onward, Lex looking back every few seconds. When the invasion didn't come, Lex split off to light the bonfire in the hidden room below before returning. The path led to an empty room with one wall missing, facing a tower apart. The Lord-sized woman sat peacefully on a throne beneath stained glass windows. Lex approached the edge while Safiya remained closer to the middle of the room where she wouldn't be exposed to a ranged attack.

"You have fought admirably on your journey, cursed Undead. I am Nashandra, Queen of Drangleic."

Lex stepped up onto the ledge.

"Brave Undead, what are you-?"

There was a small pillar that rose between the two rooms, and he boldly stepped onto it. He raised his gold-hemmed black talisman high. It sparked with red-tinted lightning, then burst into an immense pillar of light. All over the world, the beacon of Chaos could be seen. Animals, people, and even hollows turned to face it.

Priests saw the beauty of the divine in it and took it for a sign from the gods, while the mad felt their time had finally come. Some cities fell into panic while others believed the Curse was finally breaking. Kings declared war in its name, while the Great Ones in the cosmos beyond ruminated on the need to return to the world of men. Most importantly, it could be seen from frozen Eleum Loyce in the distant north. The Dark of the night churned, and a second woman in white stepped into the tower as Lex hopped across.

"Hello, sister," the Silent Oracle said bashfully. "It is a pleasure, after so long."

"Alsanna," the Queen hissed, her voice much lower and dripping with malice. "Did you tell this Undead something you shouldn't have?"

"He- He already knew. He has spoken with Nadalia and," she she murmured, licking her lips nervously, "slain Elana and our father."

"To be fair, I had a bunch of people with me then. And a wolf. Are intelligent wolves people? Like, I would consider the talking cats people, but I have no way of knowing whether Sif is sapient."

"Kind prophet, that is not the matter at hand."

"Right, so Nashandra, are you going to come up here, or should we go down, or what? Because it's kind of rude for you to make us just talk to an illusion. Who do you think you are, Gwyndolin?"

"Who are you," Nashandra hissed, "to make demands of the Queen of Drangleic?"

"King-Consort Lex of Izalith. One half of the Lord of Life, compared to your one quarter of the Lord of Dark. More importantly, I'm a cleric from the end of the second Age of Flame, which means my lightning spells are stronger than anything you've seen."

"How appropriate," she murmured, "for a would-be monarch to make grand threats."

"I'm not threatening, per se. I'm saying that your planned ambush in the Throneroom won't work. I'm also saying that I know _exactly_ who you are. You are the embodiment of your father's Want. But I wonder, do you know what your father wanted?"

"Power," the Queen laughed, "Darkness, control! To snuff out the cruel gods and their servants!"

"Well, I don't really doubt that, considering what happened in Oolacile. It certainly would reflect rather poorly on the gods. Of course, I can't say what they might have done to him prior to his first death and burial there. But then, what about Dusk?"

Nashandra inhaled sharply.

"Oh, you know, then. Alsanna, do you know?"

"I am afraid not."

"Ha, you said 'afraid.' Anyway, your father destroyed the kingdom which unearthed his grave, twisting his captors' humanity and turning them into monsters. There were no survivors among the humans, save one, the princess. Nice enough girl; Nashandra here is the spitting image of her."

"What are you implying, Undead?" the Queen growled.

"Oh, just that the embodiment of your father's desire takes the shape of a delicate woman and not some glorious god-monster. Even your true form isn't really frightening and wears a precious little crown. I'm implying, well, stating plainly now, that your father desired at once more and less than mere power or revenge… and so do you."

"I will not stand for-"

"Well, yeah, you're sitting. AlsannahaveyoudoneitwiththeIvoryKingyet?"

The Silent Oracle choked.

"Setting that aside, why don't you tell your sister what you've done all these years?"

"I stood guard. Over Eleum Loyce and the Chaos. My lord's pets and his subjects. I waited an eternity for one to come who might free my lord from his burden. Until this man came."

Lex nodded.

"Well, Nadalia couldn't be here because she's a spooky ghost, but when she found she'd arrived too late and her King was already dead, she took her own life. Of course, I killed Elana because she wouldn't listen to reason, but she spent years planning revenge on Drangleic for the death of her King. I wonder. Why do you seem to hate yours so much?"

"The so-called King, Vendrick, was weak! He would not take the Throne! He used the last of his power to seal it and scatter the means by which it might be reached! Years, I spent, gaining his trust, laying the groundwork so that I might take the Throne in his place. All of it ruined by that Velstadt!

I should have recognized him for the threat he was. From the day he arrived, he began to turn Vendrick against me! They built that accursed shrine beneath the castle in secret and fortified it against my intrusion, all to keep me from what is mine by right!"

"Is that really it? Is it really because of the Throne? Not because your husband was stolen?"

"Do not speak nonsense, Undead."

"Look, I can use the Ashen Mist Heart to talk to Vendrick, so I could give you a hand. Raime was on your side before he got kicked out like a scrub."

"You are mistaken, Undead. I do not care for the coward, Vendrick, any more than I care for you now that I know you resist my plans. Go, and perish before Vendrick's defenses as have all those before you."

"Who said anything about that? I might even give you the Throne. The fact of the matter is that lighting dudes on fire to sustain the Age is a really poor plan. Each time, it takes more fuel to do it, and the age to follow is dimmer. Only, Vendrick nearly succeeded at breaking the cycle.

He needed more time, time I can give him with the Ashen Mist Heart. Time, I suppose, he would have had if he wasn't busy running away. Tell me, what would you do with the Throne?"

"I would extinguish the Flame and plunge the world into an Age of Dark everlasting."

"And then what? There's scarier things in the Dark than you, than your father, even. Of course, that assumes you get that far. I hardly imagine that Velka would allow it."

"Velka?"

"You're not in control as you think you are. The gods are mostly frauds in this fallen era. The nameless Goddess of Sin is not."

"You propose a plan of action which will not draw the ire of this goddess?"

"A King of Fire and a Queen of Dark seems to be the way to go, historically. Velka apparently threw her lot in with Raime, who wanted Vendrick to confront you instead of fleeing. So let's do that. I'll steal Vendrick from the past. Together, you may be able to conquer the First Flame."

"You talk much of things which hold little explanation. Why should I fear this goddess? Why must there be a King of Fire? Go, fetch for me that which is required to open the Throne, destroy the pitiful defenses left behind by that failure of a King. Then, perhaps, I will listen to what you say."

"That works, I guess. Alsanna, why don't you give your sister some romantic advice? I've got some bosses to thrash."

He rejoined Safiya, and together, the Twin Dragonriders posed little threat. Benhart was resting in the room beyond.

"Ho! Well met, friends. Good to see you well. Yes," he laughed, "very good indeed."

"Hi Benhart. Bye Benhart."

Lex lit the bonfire and breezed through. The two climbed the long ladder up to the top, activating the golem to reset the elevator and then heading back down. It was an awkward fit, but they successfully knocking each other off the narrow platform. Not caring about the sequence break, Lex approached the cage in the center of the room. A man in chains was bound to its door, a lock-shaped mask on his face, and a young woman in tatters was trapped within.

"Safiya, can you take care of this?"

"What, exactly, do you wish for me to do?"

"Stab this guy in the face. Sexually. With your sword."

"Beg pardon?"

"Just stab him. Curved swords aren't great for that. He's also a sinner or something. I have no idea, and the general consensus is that this guy's here just to be edgy, sort of like Jesus Knight in the next room. Stab this guy in the face, and we'll never talk about it ever again."

She sighed and rolled her one eye but raised her sword. Lex turned to speak to the bound man.

"Look, I'm sorry I don't have the keyblade, but I don't feel like backtracking. This will have to do. Ahem. _When you walk away, you don't hear me say, 'Please, oh baby, don't go!' Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight! It's hard to let it go!_ "

With that, the executioner stabbed him in the face, and with an ecstatic cry, the man erupted into souls. Lex threw open the door. He nodded to the woman inside.

"Go on. It's all over."

She wheezed, then vanished into nothing. After looting the chests, they took the elevator back down. The spirit of the freed Milfanito sang one final song as thanks, and they pushed ahead through the King's Passage. Beyond the fog wall was a towering knight in polished silver armor, a three-faced mask concealing his features. In on hand, he held a greatsword wrapped with barbed wire, and in the other, he held a greatshield polished to a reflective gleam.

"Yo, what are the odds you'd let us go without a fight if I told you we're bringing the King back?"

The knight made a surprisingly acrobatic lunge clear across the field. Lex rolled out of the way immediately, just barely clearing the blade. He spun about, taking a quick swipe at the knight's calf before backing away. It turned and raised its sword to the sky. Lightning struck its tip, and the knight slammed the blade into the ground, unleashing a blast on par with the Dragonslayer of Anor Londo.

Safiya pushed through the fog now, slashing across the knight's back while it was distracted. It whirled about, trying to catch her with a backhand swing, but compared to the Ivory King, a mere servant such as this was moving in slow motion. Lex shook his blade, chiming the rings and blurring its shape with the dull hum of sonic energy. The Looking Glass Knight made an admirable attempt to hold them off, bashing one with its shield while slashing the other with its sword, but the attempt was ultimately futile. It tried to even the odds by summoning with its mirror, but that only left it vulnerable.

A single Undead was one thing, or even an inexperienced group, but a pair of Lords was too much. Their blows were enough to stagger it, breaking off the summoning. At last, Lex swung at it with all his might, incanting as spell as he did so. The Mirror Knight raised its shield to deflect it, but it was not an attack which could be deflected. A bass wave rushed over the knight, shattering the magic mirror on its shield. With the mirror, everything else began to crack, until the entire knight burst with a terrible thundercrack.

"I still don't understand why these mirrors crack. They're clearly polished steel or something."

"Thematic associations are vital to magical rituals. It is likely that the enchantment gave them some properties of glass."

"I guess."

After opening the chest at the end of the balcony, they moved to the center of the large elevator platform and began the long descent to the Shrine of Amana.


	20. Loud enough to wake the dead

"I don't want to set the world on fire… I just want to start… a flame in your heart…"

As someone who spent most of his time lazing about in a cave system, the Gravelord was a master of acoustics. Thanks to his training, Lex's singing voice had changed from off-key and nasally to a silky baritone. The easygoing tune for the apocalypse echoed through the Shrine, calming the Dark-afflicted mutants for reasons they couldn't quite understand. If nothing else, the Milfanito in the first cavern was impressed by the magic of the song. Between the two Lords, even the tireless hammering of the hollow Archdrake priests was hardly a threat.

As they entered the second cavern, Lex began chuckling. It was quiet at first, if out of place, but it soon became wild. Safiya cautiously laid a hand on her sword. The prophet shook his head and stuck two fingers in his mouth, whistling sharply. The canopy of branches above rustled, parting to let a stream of daylight into the darkened passage.

What had been a carefully-constructed gauntlet to challenge Undead and keep out the Queen was ruthlessly violated by a giant beast, hissing and clicking. Freja and her countless children poured into the Shrine, burrowing through the ceiling and beginning to transform it into their new lair. The mother spider dropped to the floor on a long strand of webbing, the waist-deep water having no effect on her enormous body.

"I'll show _you_ some goddamn bullshit sorcery! I did this shit before it was nerfed! It's payback time! Safiya, get on!"

By all rights, the two of them could have made excellent speed through the passage on their own, powerful as they were. With the giant spider providing them transport, they could have crossed in mere moments, climbing over the deep waters and past the Shrine's guardians. Instead, they spent the better part of fifteen minutes while Lex led Freja to each individual enemy, ruthlessly impaling them on her spear-like legs or annihilating them at point-blank range with her sorcerous breath. The ambush in the third cavern was met with gusto, the spider charging into the fray and unleashing both her beams at once while the Chaos Lord stood atop her back, cackling madly.

"Are you quite finished?"

Safiya had quickly rescued the captive Milfanito, allowing her to die in peace. Lex shrugged and allowed the enormous spider to go on its way.

"Amana is bad not just because it's obnoxious. The Anor Londo archers are obnoxious but fair. The Bed of Chaos is anti-fun, but still technically fair because it doesn't break any established conceits. Amana is not fair, because the priestesses use the same magic as a common Undead, but it's inexplicably much, much better."

"Is that not because they trained for years?"

"You're saying that like no other sorcerer has. Homing sorcery is both ancient and one of the most useful branches of the art. Something so useful should have been discovered independently in a dozen different places by now."

"That is a reasonable argument. A shame events are rarely so reasonable. Come along. What foe lies beyond the fog?"

"So-called 'Demon of Song.' Absolutely not a demon. Its outer shell is unreasonably difficult to damage. Just wait for its hideous insides to come out and hack away. Hardly a fight."

So it was. When the demon emerged, the Sinner used her great strength to keep it from retreating again. With an electrified bass stream, the Prophet simply overpowered the froglike creature, running magic through it until it croaked. Shrugging at the ease of the task, they collected the sword-shaped key it left behind and exited the chamber. They reemerged in the third chasm and followed the path through a series of ruined archways. The half-submerged trail led to an empty building with only an elevator inside.

Lex whistled the _Jeopardy_ theme on the awkward half-minute descent. At the bottom, he nodded to Safiya subtly while approaching the bonfire. The instant he touched it, a shockwave blasted him backward, but Safiya lunged forward. Powerful though her sword was against Sinners, it simply bounced off the Scholar.

" _Young hollow and old soul_ ," Aldia murmured.

"Git rekt, Aldia!"

" _What drives you so? To-_ "

"Spiderbooty! I don't have to take this from you, Aldia! Instead of going outside the Cycle and turning into a giant severed head like a scrub, I harnessed it! The Flame creates Dark when it rises and uses Dark to rise again! Do you know what that means, you fake Scholar? Perpetual motion machines! Unlimited power!"

" _I see there can be no reasoning with you._ "

"Says the guy who shows up out of nowhere forcing his depressing worldview down everyone's throat!"

Safiya coughed.

" _You are blinded by the Flame, young hollow._ "

"I'm not even a hollow, or is that giant head completely empty?"

" _You see only the falsehoods the gods would have you see._ "

"What part of 'harnessed the Cycle' are you having problems with? This is literally what Vendrick was trying to do."

" _My brother was mistaken… and a failure, as much as myself, despite his closeness to the true Throne. Ruling over a prison does not make one any less bound._ "

"So there's this thing called a shark cage, which keeps giant, toothy sea creatures from eating you. Kind of like how the Fire keeps away all of the horrible monsters in the cosmos."

" _Perhaps. But a coward shall never know_."

"No, I actually do. That's part of the whole prophet thing.

" _Your bravado will avail you nothing. You will fail, just as the false monarchs before you._ "

"Uh, no. I already succeeded. I saved Lordran, and I'm kind of facerolling Drangleic. There have been like one or two situations that I actually had to put effort into. I already fought the Fume Knight, and he's the hardest boss in the game that's not the cheap, instant-death dragon. And I am _absolutely_ going to cheese that fight."

" _You fool. So be it. If you will not heed_ _my warning, then I shall await the arrival of another who will._ "

"Haters gonna hate."

" _No. You are fixed upon the lure of Flame. You take too great a pleasure in the lordship of a falsehood."_

"Well, **_SORRY FOR PARTY ROCKING!_** "

The prophet threw his arms wide and began dancing in place while making electronic gagging noises. The metal discs which comprised his rebuilt armor began to shake, but instead of jangling, they unleashed bass booms in time with his footfalls. The gods were vessels for their own power and had no need of chime or talisman. By turning his entire body into an enormous chime, the hedonistic demon prophet was ironically closer to divinity than the most pious of saints. The madness-fueled music of the Prince of Pleasure, the Chaos God Slaanesh, overwhelmed the solemn silence of the Undead Crypt.

Safiya clutched her head in pain as the pulses resounded. The Chaos Maggot, which had been reticent since its defeat in Eleum Loyce emerged suddenly, bobbing its head in time with the beat. The Sinner found her foot tapping in defiance of her will, and the Scholar gasped to witness his own roots shifting rhythmically about him.

" _You are more powerful than your forebears, certainly!_ "

"Well yeah. Beatrice literally ate them at the height of their power, and I locked _her_ in a sewer."

Aldia had been stunned by the sudden outburst of dance and music, but now, he moved to retreat within the bonfire, waves of flame ebbing at his edges. Only, Lex danced closer, and Chaos swayed the flame. Whatever power the Scholar of the First Sin possessed over the bonfires was being overwhelmed by the potent fusion of miracle and pyromancy. The prophet's feet glided over heretical runes that burned through the stone floor.

 _Perfect! Perfect! Great! Marvelous! Marvelous! Perfect! Marvelous! 100 Combo!_

The hollows which roamed the entrance to the Crypt had wandered to the entryway at the top of the stairs behind Aldia. Their half-controlled bodies stumbled in concert.

"Well, I guess that's what I get for basing this spell on Undead Rapport… 'cause this is _Thriller! Thriller night!_ "

The beat slowed slightly, and the prophet's dancing became more deliberate and stiffer.

"Who dares offend the dead so?"

The blue-skinned, red-eyed chief of the Grave Wardens stormed into the entry hall, black iron sword larger than a gravemarker in hand.

"Well excuse me, princess, but Nito has very permissive tastes."

"You would blaspheme his name as well?"

"Yeah, but I blaspheme everything."

The Grave Warden lunged over Aldia, using his massive sword to throw himself forward. Lex danced out of the way and reached for his own blade, but Safiya stepped between them. She held up her hand, trying not to let her head bob to the beat too much.

"While I can certainly appreciate your distaste for the prophet's inconsiderate actions in light of what I presume is your duty, I cannot allow you to interrupt. As you can see, there is some manner of elusive creature here, which his ritual dance, inane though it be, is required to capture. At least, if I am not presuming, and he is not merely dancing because all sense has finally left him."

"No, we're good."

"Then I will reiterate: allow him finish his silly little dance, or I must inconvenience you further."

The Grave Warden nodded grimly.

"Do as you must. I will do the same."

Agdayne leveled his sword and courteously took a few steps back. Safiya made the first move, lunging for Agdayne's face. He blocked the strike with the flat of his wide sword, then drove it along the ground in a counterattack. Aldia sighed as the blades crossed just in front of his nose, the prophet dancing a ring around him. This was certainly _something_.

As Lex came around the other side, Agdayne dropped back, swinging wide at him. Safiya leapt around to block the blow, but she misjudged the force of it. She stumbled backward, bumping into Lex, who stumbled in turn.

"Ugh, you threw off my groove!"

With the spell broken, Aldia wasted no time in escaping, vanishing in a burst of flame. Lex sighed.

"Well, it's not like he can avoid us when I steal the Throne of Want."

"You presume much, human," Agdayne said coldly. "Many have sought the King."

He gave them some room to recover but held his sword at ready.

"And none of those were Lords. Of which there are two here."

The Grave Warden's red eyes narrowed. He scowled.

"What is your purpose here, bearers of Life? Why do you offend the dead? You have no need of a Monarch's power."

"No, but I do need his ring to open the-"

Lex stopped suddenly, grimacing.

"I could have climbed over the wall. There is literally nothing to stop me from doing that. It's not designed to keep out Spider-Lex and his spider-legs."

He sighed again.

"Well, I need to kill his hollow anyway."

"Its rest is long overdue," the Grave Warden agreed. "Be silent, and do not produce light. If you can do these things, I will allow you entry."

"Done and done. I'll just slap the crap out of Velstadt real quick and be on my way."

Agdayne rumbled as he struggled with his better judgment.

"Then proceed. I'll be watching."

"You have patience of a saint," Safiya said appreciatively, setting her sword aside.

They passed through the initial chambers and into the first room with enemies. Quick swordplay eliminated the hollows, and they rushed across to strike down the witches before they had finished casting their first spells. Unlike a typical Bearer of the Curse, the knee-high walls did nothing to slow their movement. They bounded ahead and continued past the Grave Wardens' watch, coming upon the chamber with the bottomless cavern. The greatshields of the Syan knights blocking the bridge meant nothing to warriors who could jump over them, and the hollow soldiers were quickly dispatched.

Likewise, the Lords leapt over the raised bridge instead of taking the long way through the Crypt. Lex slew the alarm-ringing hollow with a swear on his lips, and the two made short work of the Syan knights guarding the fog wall at the end of the passage full of sarcophagi. Through the fog, they found an enormous man in heavy armor, larger even than Safiya who was an Old One. He knelt facing the opposite wall, gazing up at his bell-shaped hammer as golden light fell around him as a barrier. He rose, flourishing with the hammer, clearly no hollow.

"Yo Velstadt, my homie, my cleric-bro, what up? Love the hammer! You see I have a weapon that chimes too! Well, it's a nine-ring sword, which isn't as impressive as a literal bell on a stick, but whatever. How you doing?"

The Royal Aegis only grunted and charged, but Lex quickly stepped out of the way as the mountain of a man plowed through pillars of solid stone.

"Chill, bruh. Like, really, I think that's the solution to your entire story."

Velstadt whirled about, flaring his mantle as he brought the enormous hammer around.

"Actually, I have a message from Raime, but it's vulgar enough that even I don't think I can repeat it. Long story short, he's back in black."

Even this elicited no response from the stoic guardian of the King. He stamped his foot, bringing down an overhead swing that shattered the stone floor and sent the ringing of the bell echoing through the Crypt.

"Why did Agdayne only complain about me? How much noise have you made?"

Lex kicked backward, throwing his arms wide in a taunt.

"How did you beat Raime anyway? He's clearly the better fighter, even without the power he got from the Queen of Alken. Are you like Frost, where you look like a nice guy, but then when Goku's about to beat you, you pull some cheap crap?"

Brass greave ground the stone, and the hammer rocketed to the ceiling, blasting through a pillar.

"Did you know that Aldia invented some crap that lets you warp into the pass and cause all manner of paradox? Well, it's not really new, but the power used to be something Lord-tier, you know. As much as I hate the guy, that's pretty impressive, putting it into an artifact."

Safiya stood at the entrance, fist on her hip. She seemed to have no reason to worry here. The servant of one King was clearly no match for the Chaos-empowered King she had already defeated. The prophet had no need of her help.

"More to the point," Lex continued as he dodged another hammerfall, "one of the memories you can enter with it is Vendrick's last moments. And you know, when the Crowns of the Four Kings who once commanded the power of Lifedrain are gathered, they reveal the secret to stopping the hollowing process – a secret only Vendrick can decipher. Won't you let me meet him?"

Velstadt continued attacking, slow and inevitable like the tolling of a churchbell.

"Look, I think I'm out of taunts, so I'm just going to wreck you now."

The Royal Aegis' bell rang low, and the Prophet of Pleasure's rings chimed high. Thunder pealed as a Great Lightning Spear surged out of the holy brass rings. The fallen cleric staggered backward. Lex spun about and whisked his curved sword down, unleashing another bolt. He flipped in place, hammering it with both hands as the war weapon of the gods burned through the Dark-tainted cleric like dawn breaking.

Velstadt fell to his knees, trying to gather up what power he could, but the attack was unrelenting. The sword struck against the hammer's handle again and again raised in defense, but that provided no protection from the bolts that surged from the holy weapon.

 _Morning in Paris, the city awakes_

 _To the bells of Notre Dame_

 _The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes_

 _To the bells of Notre Dame_

 _To the big bells as loud as the thunder_

 _To the little bells soft as a psalm_

 _And some say the soul of the city is_

 _The toll of the bells_

 _The bells of Notre Dame_

Lex slapped the blade, unleashing an uncharacteristically deep toll. Velstadt shuddered and faltered, the last of his strength driven out by the spell. The prophet walked past him as if he weren't there.

"You should give Garl Vinland his hat back. In any case, what good are you as a right hand? As much as Raime has poor judgment, you're too rigid. Honestly, even the people who hated me at least bantered back."

The fog faded and revealed the corridor ahead. It led outside the Crypt's main structure, to a black cavern overflowing with the tombs of ancient kings. The armor and shield of the last lay in a heap on the far side, while the body of the man itself lumbered about the center of the chamber, dragging an enormously long sword and wearing only a false crown.

"Ready? He's just a hollow, but he hits like a truck and is apparently related to _the Juggernaut, bitch._ "

"Shall I presume that comment means something about his defenses?"

"Absolutely. We've only got one giant's soul. Somehow. The Soul of the Last Giant should count for like three. This is BS."

"What function do these souls perform?"

"Mechanically, they lower his defenses, but I think the lore implication is that their rage makes you more powerful against Vendrick specifically. I dunno, let's just beat him up."

Sure enough, neither of them were struck in the fight that followed, but it was tedious work cutting down a hollow that simply wouldn't die. When the thing at last fell over, they both sighed with exasperation. Lex took the King's signet ring from his discarded equipment, and they headed back, only to be stopped by Shanalotte and a recovered Velstadt.

"Hold, champion," the Royal Aegis rumbled. "You have bested the King's trials and destroyed even his lingering shade. His last orders are fulfilled, and I am free. I wish to know what you plan before you leave this place."

"Bearer of the Curse," the Emerald Herald sighed, "I can hardly be surprised. Sir Velstadt, they travel east, to the keep of Duke Aldia."

"Well, I need to get Vendrick's soul and Crown first, but yeah."

"You would take the Throne the King forsook?" Velstadt murmured.

"Nah. Well, I might literally take it. As far as what I'm planning? Empire."


	21. Who the heck is the Muse anyway?

Lex presented the King's Ring, and the lock slid open. The ornate gate of ebony and gold opened wide to admit the Lords, and they entered a wasted yard of dead trees with alternating wild grass and barren ground. The estate ahead lay in disrepair, and small monsters roamed free.

"Watch out, there are Pokemon in the tall grass," he murmured as the two headed for the dilapidated groundskeeper's shack where the bonfire waited.

Again, Lucatiel was absent from her expected location. Lex quirked an eyebrow, knowing what came next. They headed up the stairs and through the grim atrium, only to be greeted by the sound of blades clashing.

"Theeeere we go."

Two masked knights of Mirrah fought with incredible speed, their traditionally dextrous style of swordplay producing dazzling series of strikes and parries. At last, the invader broke the stalemate with a shield bash, but his victim had a second weapon instead of a shield. Even as her sword was batted away, Lucatiel fired her flintlock. With her assailant momentarily stunned, she followed up with a swift kick to the ankle, knocking the legs from under him. Her own sword flashed back, disarming him, and she held the point to his throat.

"I… I won," she gasped. "Aslatiel…"

"End it," he hissed in a voice worn out from fury.

She hesitated for a moment, then drove the blade through him. The phantom dispersed, and she shakily sheathed her sword, falling back against the wall. It was only then that realized her duel had been intruded upon.

"Oh, it's you," she said, almost dreamily. "I had wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. If I had imagined you. After so long, you never caught up. And you find me now. How funny."

She swallowed hard. Safiya shifted uncomfortably.

"I could never beat my brother, you know. He was older and always had that extra edge. Always put in that extra practice. He had dueled for fun, certainly... But to serve Nahr Alma, to attack the innocent…"

Her breath was uneven.

"And still, I won… He trained with that pack of cutthroats, and I won. I know I came here so I could find my own strength, but I wonder… am I really better better off for having it?"

Lex grimaced.

"Your brother made a choice, and the consequences are his to own. Now, you need to make a choice. Are you going to let this stop you? You came here in search of souls to stave off the Curse, but you have that magic ring which does one better. Why are you still here anyway?"

"I… you're right. I came here to save myself. When you gave me this ring, I became selfish. I thought that maybe, I could help others. Whatever powers a Monarch possesses, I could use them for good. To hold back the Curse. Now, I don't know that I want them.

I almost wish… that my brother had stayed in Mirrah, that we had both gone hollow. I never wanted this, to find him again, a murderer. If I had lost, just as always, I wonder if he would have remembered. Is this the burden a Monarch must bear?"

"Shakespeare, the great Bard of my world, once said something to that effect. I don't remember specifically because I mainly watched that play for the swordfights. But as an older brother, I'll tell you how he may have felt. 'That was a cheap shot. That fight doesn't count. I'm still the best.'"

She stared at him.

"Okay, maybe my sibling relationship is a little petty."

Lucatiel cracked a wan smile.

"No, that's just like him. How he was. Always fighting with the others over technicalities."

She rose, shaking her head.

"Thank you, for everything. I think you're right, though. I won't be needing this anymore. I need to fight with my own strength instead of a device."

She flipped the pistol in her hand and extended it to him.

"Bloodtinge is kind of OP, yeah," the prophet said, shrugging and putting the gun in one of his larger pouches. "What now? We're building up Majula if you want to take a break from all this."

"No. I need to move forward. Push it out of my mind at least. If you wouldn't mind the company, I would travel with you again. At least for now."

"The more the merrier. Well, I say that, but it starts getting a little crowded at around five people. Speaking of which, let's go grab party members four and five right now."

He pointed straight ahead.

"Right, so get ready to sprint in case this doesn't work."

The other two nodded, so he walked ahead and pushed open the door. Ahead was a grand lobby with staircases rising on either side of an overhang. Looming over the room, however, was a dragon skeleton which made Ornstein's collection of mounted heads look tiny. As they approached, it stirred and began to rise. It had barely picked its head up before it was ground to dust.

" _Joor Zah Frul!_ "

The gravity of the Dragonrend Shout crushed the weary bones against the tile, shattering them.

"Oh man, this is going to make the stupid dragon golem fight so easy."

He hurried through the dust cloud and under the stairs, waiting for the others impatiently. Safiya quickly closed with her long strides, but exhausted Lucatiel took some time. The passage there arrived at a wall, following it left and right before turning back on both sides.

"Safiya, with me," Lex said quickly. "Lucatiel, you go the other way. Ignore all the messages telling you to turn back and pull the lever at the end of the passage."

The knight made a displeased grunt beneath her mask.

"And what manner of beast will this unleash?"

"Evil sorcerer. But he's coming out on Safiya's and my side. We've got it."

"I will hurry back regardless," she said, turning.

"Shall I presume this will be our fourth member?" Safiya said in a low voice as they started on their own path.

"Fourth _and_ fifth. Split personality. One is a terrified mad scientist who deeply regrets what he's unleashed, and the other is a deranged murderer with an unexplained hatred of Shanalotte."

"Another eccentric for your menagerie?"

"It sounds weird when you say it like that."

They approached a shimmering barrier of soul force behind which sat a withered husk of a man. He wore gold-hemmed green robes and was hunched over in misery. Hearing their approach, he turned slightly, looking out from under his hood.

"Please, just stay away," he begged. When they kept coming, his cries became more panicked until at last he gave up, "No, please, don't come near me! Nothing good will come of it. Just leave me alone, please…"

"Everyone makes mistakes," Lex said quietly. "You actually owned up to yours. You've been punished enough. Now, you have a chance to make things right. Come with us and use that power for good."

Conveniently, the barrier dropped just as he finished speaking. The sorcerer's quiet pleading quickly turned to shrill outrage. He rose so quickly as to knock over his aged wooden chain and shook Lex by the shoulders.

"By the gods! What have you done? You've really done it! You'll never escape _him_!"

The man's face was blue like Agdayne's but leather straps covered his eyes, as was a tradition among pyromancers.

"Look, I don't know what you've done as part of Aldia's crazy experiments, but you had a good reason for it, right?"

"No reason could excuse what I've done! You don't understand-!"

"No, you don't understand. My wife has killed a _lot_ of people. Are you going to let their deaths be without justification? All the people my wife killed let her live long enough to take command of the Chaos Flame, preventing the horrors it would have produced otherwise. Did all those people die just so you could feel sorry for yourself?"

"What do you mean, 'command the Chaos Flame'?" Navlaan hissed. "It cannot be controlled. It only leads to such madness as mine."

"No," Safiya said softly. "There is hope, my friend."

She convulsed, clutching her eye. After a moment of panting, she forced the Chaos Maggot to surface, hissing at being subordinated to her will.

"Oh, now that is a surprise," Navlaan whispered, his frail voice turned rich and husky.

"Get back!"

Lex jumped between them just as the royal sorcerer lunged for the maggot. Surprised, Safiya's will weakened, and the maggot lashed her body forward. The three of them collapsed in a heap just as Lucatiel reached them. She raised her shield cautiously, waiting to see what would happen.

"Just kick him!" Lex snapped, trying to wriggle free. "He's got a glass jaw!"

The knight's boot lashed at the sorcerer's head, and his body fell limp. Safiya grumbled a mantra, forcing the Maggot back into her body, and rose first. She pulled Lex to his feet, then threw Navlaan over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Let us make haste. I do not wish to remain in this den of monsters any longer than I must."

"Say what?"

"Can you not _taste_ it? The twisted flesh and rotted souls? This manor reeks as if my prison's depravity were condensed and refined."

"Oh yeah, some of the monster things did show up in both places. I dunno if they were sent after you or taken here to be experimented on or what. I think the 'abominations' were made here, but then the mummy things were-"

"This elaboration may wait."

"I agree," Lucatiel said quietly. "I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."

"Sure, sure," Lex said, shrugging. He led them over the waist-high wall and up the stairs. They passed under the ribcage of the looming dragon, squeezing past a petrified cyclops before continuing up another set of stairs. Safiya and Lucatiel tensed when the stairs gave way to an enormous caged basilisk, but the prophet just shook his head and walked around. They passed through a door to a small room with only an iron dragon statue in the middle.

Lex pulled the hoop hanging from its mouth, and the door shut behind them just before the one on the opposite side opened. The hallway ahead was dark, and countless gibbets loomed above menacingly. Though the cages they approached were filled with monstrous beasts, he casually proceeded through the hallway, up to the door at the end. There, he stopped just short. A cyclops burst through the wall, roaring with maddened fury.

He walked around it briskly but didn't put forth even the effort to run. As he approached the opposite wall, he did the same, avoiding a second cyclops even as the first followed after the trio. Ahead was a great archway and natural light. He continued walking just fast enough to avoid the cyclopes, then paused in the middle of the bridge beyond.

Though ahead was a great iron cage, covered in tarp and chain, all around was breathtaking scenery. Mountains encircled a lush forest from which erupted enormous stone pillars. An evening sun shone gently over it all. In the distance, the mountains fell away to nothing, leaving only gray fog.

"Praise the Sun!" the cleric said, gesturing.

The other two gave him expectant looks.

"It's tradition."

The entrance of the cage was blocked by a fog wall.

"What should I do with this one?" Safiya asked, adjusting Navlaan on her shoulder.

"Eh. You don't need to do anything this fight. Total joke of a boss."

She nodded. Lucatiel likewise said nothing but readied herself regardless. They passed through the fog to reveal an enormous red dragon, which now rose from slumber.

"This is a joke?" the knight hissed.

"Yeah, watch."

Lex raised his talisman. A half dozen Great Lightning Spears later, and the thing fell dead without him having moved from the spot.

"Look, I already fought the Fume Knight and the Ivory King. The only other difficult fight left is the _other_ fake dragon. Other other. Well, there are a lot of fake dragons in Drangleic. The one at the end of this road. And the only reason why that's hard is because the damage is bullshit, but I'm immune to fire anyway, so…"

"If it were so simple, surely the world would not be in such a state," Safiya said, shaking her head.

"Many Monarchs have tried," Lucatiel added.

"Basically, the world's caught in this endless Cycle of Light and Dark. The problem's that whenever someone reignites the First Flame, it has less fuel than it did the Cycle before, so everyone's weaker. I come from the very end of the first Cycle. We'd thought this one was like six-ish, maybe, but then 3 went and changed a bunch of stuff, so I have no idea."

"I had thought so," Safiya murmured, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "The diminishing of the Flame more than accounts for the difference betwixt your half soul and mine entire."

"For comparison, when the Flame was first found, the Gravelord, the Witch of Izalith, the Lord of Sunlight, and traitor, the Paledrake, fought together against an entire army dragons larger than that one which were also invincible until you hit them with enough lightning. Even by my time, the world was… hollow."

"Then we are just living in the shadows of history?" Lucatiel asked grimly.

"Not quite. The Eternal Return, which is the same events replaying forever, does control a lot. But things do change slowly. Vendrick nearly solved the Curse in this Cycle. He started his work during the first. And of course, I already figured out the First Flame problem, so we just need to _get_ there."

They passed over another bridge and through a tunnel leading to a caged elevator. It led up and into a tower, but the tower opened to a windy, winding cliffside. Innumerable drakes wound through the dusky sky. At the end of the path, in the shadow of a grand cathedral, waited the Emerald Herald.

"Shanalotte, god, stop sending out shadow clones to deliver cryptic messages. No one cares."

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes.

"Bearer of the Curse, I have come to understand your strength. I have watched you like I have watched the others before you. You are greater than they were. Perhaps this is what it is like to watch a Monarch rise with the Flame instead of with the Dark. But you are a fool.

King Vendrick was a great man, but he was not a true Monarch. Together with his brother, he built this kingdom, and all that you have seen. They gave life to the dragons above and stole it from the prisons below. Yet, they were arrogant, as are you. You can no more cheat fate than they."

"Excuse me. I've already done-"

"No. You say you were victorious in the distant past, that you escaped a Monarch's duty. Then why are you here? I was raised hearing the theories of sorcerers and heretics. You say that this is another world, that all you must do is link them.

I offer a hypothesis of my own. Fate has refused you, as it has refused all others. It has pruned a twisted and gnarled branch, returning you to its trunk as a mercy."

"Huh. You actually get time travel theory."

Lex was utterly unperturbed. Safiya had listened keenly, but Lucatiel was more interested in the practical matter of the bonfire a little further along the path. The prophet crossed his arms.

"I get that you've not had a great history, but you're forgetting a data point. Or I didn't mention it. Anyway, that's that I've come from a world utterly different from this one. A world with no magic and centuries' worth of technological advancements. Where the length of a continent can be crossed in mere hours by flying in an enormous steel tube propelled by enough explosive force to shatter castle walls.

I've met the Goddess of Fate, you know. Unfortunately, she's also the Goddess of Beauty – and with beauty being subjective, she takes the form you would find most beautiful. So that creates the awkward situation where she looks exactly like my wife, except without being attached at the waist to a terrifying spider demon. In any case, Fate's not anything to worry about. What you're describing is bad luck and human weakness."

"Can you truly claim to be beyond such?"

"Okay, let me rephrase that – mad scientists are kind of crap at basic management skills. Like that giant pile of giant corpses right above the hole into the acid pit. What the hell is that? Has Aldia even heard of keeping a sanitary workstation? What is he, an undergrad lab assistant?"

The attempts at his usual casual humor were falling utterly flat for Shanalotte. Safiya put a firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him back a step.

"Fire Keeper, I know naught of your history with this Aldia, but so too am I ignorant of your reasoning as for why this fool is mistaken. He is by no means fit to rule, but I have every reason to believe he can change fate."

"Continue on this path, and you will reach the dragon, greatest of their creations. It is a failure, no doubt you have already been told. If men whose failures are of such scope could not escape fate, then it cannot be done."

SMASHING THROUGH BOTH KARMA AND FATE!

THE SCREAMS OF LIFE ECHO THROUGH-!

"Stop."

At that moment, the Lost Sinner rumbled with quiet menace. Her single blue eye reflected the terrible discipline inflicted upon herself and frozen Eleum Loyce.

"We will see this dragon for ourselves, but no mean beast can compare to the power of the Chaos I unleashed upon my homeland. This man is an inconsiderate boor, but he is fearless without the madness that so often accompanies such power. It may be long before he learns the ways of true greatness, but an Undead of unbreakable will has all eternity."

"Nothing is unbreakable."

"I think you mean nothing isn't broken with From's crap balancing."

Safiya squeezed his shoulder until the bones creaked.

"I will make certain of it," she said grimly.

At last, Navlaan began to stir on her shoulder.

"Oh, by the gods, what…?"

The Herald stiffened and took a sharp breath.

"M-Master Navlaan!"

"Lotte, is that you? Where am I? You must hurry! I cannot-!"

His voice dropped, and he laughed heartily as he bent his neck upward to see her.

"What a pleasant surprise."

"Don't get too excited," Lex sighed. "It's just an avatar. She's still in Majula."

"Even so, that only means I get to experience her last gasps twice!"

The mad sorcerer writhed in Safiya's grip. Unfortunately for him, rare is the sorcerer with the physical strength to match a Lord.

"Oh, just you wait! I'll-!"

"Look, do you actually have a reason to want to kill her, or are you just tired of her dialogue?"

The evil Navlaan chuckled again.

"Do I need a reason? I am strong. It is my god-given right to use that strength as I see fit."

"You mean that strength that's totally helping you get free right now?"

"Hmph. All it takes is the correct application."

Without any sort of catalyst, he caught fire. Safiya, being a creature of Chaos, only grunted from the minor irritation. As with Lex, she squeezed harder, eliciting a series of pops from the sorcerer's spine.

"A miscalculation is all," he said, forcing the fire out. "I must simply…"

He wriggled some more, but the pressure of the Lord's grip quickly got the best of him.

"Are you certain we need this one, Lex?" Safiya sighed.

"Not really. I mean, he's clearly a genius, but he might just be too unstable."

"How should we deal with him, then?"

"Well, the cliff's always a fun option, but-"

"Please," Shanalotte interrupted, "make it painless. I owe him much."

As she spoke, she clutched a brazen feather to her chest.

"He was my tutor… and the one who helped me escape the fate of all of Aldia's failed creations."

"And the last thing my vessel holds dear!" Navlaan barked. "People call me a monster for slaying others with my own hands. How many more has this doll sent to their doom?"

The Emerald Herald closed her eyes but said nothing.

"That's what I thought!"

"Hey, Navlaan, you want to test how powerful you are, right? How about killing something that's unkillable?"

"Oh? You've piqued my interest."

"Yeah, Aldia's turned into some sort of immortal burning bush severed head Bed of Chaos archtree thing that doesn't die when you kill it."

The wicked sorcerer's grin nearly split his face.

"When can we start?"

"Now. Aldia's right up ahead. Shanalotte?"

She shook her head stiffly, dispersing into pale smoke.

"One less distraction," Navlaan said. "Now, are you going to let me down?"

Safiya glanced at Lex. He nodded, so she finally released her grip. The sorcerer anxiously wriggled free before she could put him down, so he fell to the dirt in a heap. He rose with a smirk on his face, not bothering to dust off his robes.

"Lead on, brave hero."


	22. Everyone's wearing the Judgment Set

"Right, so Lucatiel, meet Chaotic Evil Navlaan. Navlaan, Lucatiel."

"Hmph," the sorcerer scoffed, reluctantly shaking the knight's hand. "Trust a cleric to label evil what he does not understand… and use its power anyway."

"Look, I'm just being clinical about it. The way the alignment system works is that people who sacrifice for others are Good; people who don't are Neutral; and people who sacrifice others are Evil. Like my wife, who killed hundreds if not more to keep her sister alive."

The sociopathic killer chuckled.

"She sounds like quite the catch."

"Actually, you have to include me in that tally of people killed. She took my death virginity too."

"You and I are going to get along splendidly!"

Lucatiel turned away from the madness, looking out the cavern to the cliffs beyond.

"But if you want, we can think of something else to call you and the other Navlaan," Lex continued. "Like the classic Jekyll and Hyde or Harvey and Dent or something."

"Call me as you will. Names give the speaker a power over the named. Better that I not get too attached to one."

"Ah, so you're not really the infamous necromancer Navlaan, then."

"Oh, no. That is correct. Those stories speak of this vessel, and I may bend its powers to my will. Myself, I was created its opposite in many ways, and so while this fool had sought to use the powers of Death to restore life, I prefer to use the powers of Life to bring death. You will find my pyromancies second to none."

He chuckled briefly, looking up at Safiya.

"You will have to forgive me for trying to take your parasite. I had thought them mere legend, and when I saw it, why I could hardly help myself."

"What I would give to be rid of it," the priestess said sourly. "Yet I would sooner perish than give it to one who would use it for such base purposes."

The madman smiled but said nothing.

"Anyway, let's get a move on. Aldia's not going to throw _himself_ off a cliff. Lucatiel, wrong way!"

"Was there a path I missed?"

"Yeah, but it's cheating, so don't feel too bad."

Lex slung a vine up toward the roof of the cavern. There was a hole in the ceiling through which dusky light streamed down. Yet attached to the side of the hole was a retracted steel ladder. He wrapped the tendril around one of the rungs and jerked the mechanism down.

"There we go. Everyone follow me up. I'm going first so you're all forced to look up at my butt."

Lucatiel looked at Safiya. An unspoken communication occurred. While the blinded Navlaan did follow, the pair waited for Lex to reach the top before starting the climb. At the top, they found him standing beside a bipod from which a rope ran into the distance.

"Right, so this is what's called a zipline. You just hang on, and gravity pulls you down, which shoots you across the rope to the other side. To demonstrate-!"

He jumped backward off the cliff, whipping a vine over the rope. He whizzed through the air, over the stone pillars on which countless wyverns made their nests. One rushed past him, and he was tempted to throw something at it, but he refrained, landing on another clifftop some distance away. Again, the fearless Navlaan followed first, with Lucatiel coming next, and Safiya last, for fear that the rope wouldn't bear her weight.

"And now, we cross the Bridge of Mandatory Terror."

"I don't think a bridge could scare me after all that's happened," Lucatiel murmured.

"That's why it's mandatory."

The prophet led them up the path to the long bridge which spanned the enormous distance to the next clifftop. Though this mesa was far larger than any of the others, the bulk of its surface was covered by a towering castle. Though smaller than Drangleic Castle, it was also more inviting, with large stairways leading up its front and delicate spires. Without hesitation, Lex led the group to a ruined gatehouse. Without even lighting the bonfire, there sat Aldia, diminished to the size of Gough's fist.

" _Young hollow, you have come as you said you would. And you bring other fools in your wake. Another hollow close to breaking, and a failed experiment._ "

Lucatiel gripped her sword until her knuckles cracked. Navlaan was uncharacteristically quiet.

"As much as you like to say I'm working to sustain an illusion, or that I'm the puppet of the gods – you're just Velka's toy."

Aldia knitted his brows.

" _You know more than any should. From the start, I had suspected there was a force guiding my hand. Yet at no point did the renegade goddess directly intervene. Suffice it to say a toy may outlast several owners_."

"Or be broken immediately because the first is a sadistic monster. She isn't even in Drangleic, is she? There's no way you would feel safe if you'd met her."

" _I have not, and I have no wish to do so. That she provided assistance without seeking to control me as the others is enough._ "

"What makes you think trusting a primeval god is a good idea? She didn't live this long because of her kindness. All those remaining in Lordran could barely defeat her at the end of the first Cycle. I don't even want to think about how powerful she could be now."

" _Ah, there are things which even you fear_."

"Well, duh. Being immortal doesn't matter if someone can beat the shit out of you every time you come back. Frieza Saga Vegeta really needed to put more thought into that wish. Speaking of which, are you going to give me the Ashen Mist Heart, or am I going to have to old Piccolo on Shenron?"

" _Even you may have trouble besting my onetime magnum opus. And if you should succeed, I have lost naught but an artifact of my past._ "

"Funny. The Queen doesn't seem to think so. But I guess she's wrong about a lot of things."

" _So it is._ "

"And while I'm on this topic, you talk about love in two of your dialogues. Just as much as you talk about life being an illusion, even. You want elaborate on that? Do you have a crush on Velka? Do all the mad scientists have a crush on Velka? Navlaan, do you have a crush on Velka?"

Again, Navlaan said nothing.

"Hey, anyone there? Is this a third personality that's mute or something?"

The sorcerer smiled.

"I must thank you for distracting the Duke with such mindless babble."

He clapped his hands together, then drew out an arc of flame. His arms circled wide, then he thrust both palms forward, casting a ring of fire at Aldia. The hoop fell around the burning pile of roots like a wreath.

" _What is this? Another failed creation?_ "

Lances of flame sprung from the ring like thorns, running through the vines without resistance. The severed head that was Aldia writhed and tried to flee, but he could neither muster tendrils to drag himself away nor retreat inside the bonfire.

"'Oh, Master Aldia would never betray us,'" Navlaan said in a ridiculous falsetto imitation of his other side. "So of course, I planned for betrayal before anything else. This spell was designed to incapacitate those wretched test subjects, so I didn't know if it would work against something like you. Fortunately, our dear Prophet provided suitable distraction for me to strengthen it."

The wreath and its spikes were beginning to shudder. Shapes became clearer as they grew within the flame. Insect limbs and wings lashed out in agony. Mandibles clicked and hissed as monsters were birthed and killed in mere seconds. Even as they perished, they devoured Aldia from the inside out.

"You cast us aside like worn tools. Yet that fool girl served your purpose unknowingly, and my vessel sealed me away. I, who have no fear. Chaos is a Flame that grows with the Dark. Men grow mightier with the Dark.

What better time to live, than when my power and that of my prey are at their highest? You talk of breaking the yoke of fate, but you are only afraid. You fear the Flame as much as the Dark."

" _Nonsense_ ," Aldia sputtered through the pain of the thorns. " _I refuse to be a puppet on this stage of life, directed by the whims of gods_."

"The gods granted you that mind and the strength to rebel. You owe them your gratitude, but you hate them without having considered their purpose. You are no better than I. A man who would break the works of the gods who created him, and a doll created by man who hunts them for sport."

"I hate to interrupt the edgelording, but just FYI, the gods created nothing and probably aren't even responsible for the Cycle. They're only relevant in that they came before us."

Navlaan shrugged.

"Well, I guess that's one less thing to worry about when I finish with men and begin to hunt them instead. I was just trying to stir up dear Master Aldia. Now, I think it's time for last goodbyes."

He began to make arcane gestures in the air, drawing runes that formed rays of light like shooting stars.

"Well, I don't think this'll kill him, but I do have one last question. What _is_ the Ashen Mist Heart?"

Aldia's wooden lips cracked a smile.

" _Young hollow. The journey is an answer all its own._ "

"Stop being cagey!"

"That sounds like my cue."

Navlaan swept a hand forward, and the stars ran through Aldia like an iron maiden. Terrible worms emerged from the holes, beginning the slow and agonizing process of devouring him hole.

Lex turned to Safiya and mouthed, " _I've made a terrible mistake_."

She crooked an eyebrow and raised her sword slightly. The cleric shook his head. He glanced at Lucatiel and gestured for her to keep silent. As they turned back, Aldia turned to smoke and vanished. Navlaan scowled.

"How unsatisfying. I'd hoped he would have escaped his bonds at least once. I trust he'll be back?"

"Yeah, when we storm the Throne."

"Then what are we waiting for? I don't know what an Ashen Mist Heart is, but you threatened to kill the dragon, didn't you?" He took a deep breath, licking his lips hungrily before continuing, "I feared I would never be able to kill it. It was just a poor match, you know. Fire against a fire-breathing monster. Nothing could be done. I will ensure you're suitably rewarded for this opportunity."

With that ominous foreshadowing, the four made their way up the long stairs to the top of the shrine. The slow, maddened drake keepers were no match for quick blades, and the ever-watchful dragon acolytes were rendered helpless by Navlaan's cruel pyromancy. Though the setting sun shone over the cathedral-like structure, and countless wyverns soared on the roaring winds, there was no reverence for the work of the man who owned the horrid manor below. At last, they reached the end of the path, an enormous circular platform on which a tremendous dragon rested. It was ruddy in color, and it had lain dormant for so long that long grasses hung from crags in its flesh.

As they approached, an ear-piercing whine and a whisper ran through their heads.

"As if I actually needed a reason to kill it," Navlaan hissed.

Safiya and Lucatiel just winced. Lex cringed.

"Ugh. There aren't subtitles in real life, B-Team. No, wait."

A moment passed, and the shrieking took the form of empty words, like reading lips with perfect clarity.

" _The murk shifts and stirs-_ "

"Look, we both know why I'm here. Save the trash talk for someone who doesn't know you're a golem made from giant souls and dragon bones."

" _Appropriate speech for a beast who labors under a curse of Want._ "

"You know, as much fun as taking over the world is going to be, that's a Quelaag thing. I would be content to spend eternity in bed. Sexually or otherwise. Wait, isn't sleeping forever just death?"

"There is a subtle difference," Safiya murmured, eyes fixed on the terrible thing.

Lex shrugged.

"Anyway, give me the Ashen Mist Heart so I can have two hearts and travel through time like a certain Doctor."

"M _y creator expected us to do battle, as you threatened. I have no interest in his whims._ "

It shifted one of its enormous claws and materialized an orb of colorless fog. The wisp floated through the air to the prophet. He looked down at it, trying to peer into its secrets. Lucatiel and Safiya eased at last. Unfortunately, the focus commanded by a dragon was enough that no one was watching Navlaan.

"Oh, you're good at this. Thank you kindly for the distraction."

The sorcerer unleashed the collar of flame once again. The lethargic dragon wasn't fast enough to avoid it, so around its neck the ring flew.

"Aww," Lex sighed.

The colossus snarled and tore at the stone tile with claws like. curved greatswords. Even as it choked on the gnarled flames tearing into its throat, its own fire curled about its lips. Safiya gave Lex an accusing glare. He shrugged and drew his sword and talisman.

" _Joor Zah Frul!_ "

The dragon slowed as the telltale ring of the Tranquil Walk of Peace boomed out along a bass wave.

Safiya lunged to one side of the beast, skating on flames for speed as she'd seen the prophet do. Lucatiel had to make do with human legs and so charged it directly, sliding under its chin as she closed. Navlaan held his ground with a smug grin, lava dripping from his gloves like blood. Lex ran alongside Lucatiel at first but split off at the last moment. He used its lip as a stepping stone and swung up around its horn.

"Ha! Look, I'm the Firstborn. Bluh bluh lightning. Bluh bluh the camera was the real boss."

He slapped the side of his dao as he chanted another spell, causing it to thrum with the power of his Sonic Weapon spell. With a flourish, he flipped it around and took hold with both hands, slowly driving it into the dragon's neck like a chainsaw, just above the burning collar. The slowing spell broke, and the monster bucked, trying to throw him. While it was distracted, Safiya dragged her blade along the beast's flank, the sparks from her stroke hot enough to melt stone. Lucatiel's dextrous greatsword technique found a home at last as she drove her massive sword into the dragon's vulnerable elbow with expert precision.

Navlaan waggled his fingers like a conductor, driving the stakes on the collar into his prey's throat on by one. It belched a wave of unstoppable flame at him, but he danced forward, casting a wave of fire upward in a spiral to deflect the enormous gout into the sky.

"Man, spell parries never work!"

The dragon took to the air. Only, instead of merely unleashing a blast of flame, it flew over the edge of the platform and spun upside down. Safiya's enormous strength kept her stable. Lex was knocked loose at first, but simply caught himself with vines. Lucatiel held desperately to her sword, wedged deep into the monster's joint, but her blade was designed for thrusting as much as slashing and swiftly came loose.

"Safiya, go! I've got her!"

He swung low on his vines and threw her a line.

"Don't Gwen Stacy. Don't Gwen Stacy. Don't Gwen Stacy. Don't Gwen Stacy…"

Fortunately, Lucatiel's Undead physique was more than strong enough to endure any whiplash from the short fall, though the sudden change in momentum jerked her body and sent her hat tumbling to the misty depths below.

"Aww."

While the dragon flailed wildly in an attempt to dislodge its unwelcome passengers, the Chaos Lord was always one step ahead. To its every move, she reacted immediately. Though it was an imitation of the lifeless dragons, it was only that. With her powers more under control than ever, she could feel each twitch of its muscles and counter before it finished. A wild constellation of puncture wounds crossed the beast as she used her sword as a stake to drag herself forward.

As it came back over the platform, she swung around to its neck, driving her sword through Navlaan's collar. The Maggot in her eye clicked in glee as she asserted her dominion over the spell. Roots and insect limbs grew from the ring of flame and wound about the blade. She pressed forward, and the dragon dove, heading straight for Navlaan. Though the sorcerer tried to run, the monster was simply too large to avoid with Safiya adjusting its course.

The dragon struck the cathedral structure with enough force to shake the building and topple one of its spires. Navlaan's bones cracked, and he coughed blood as all his organs ruptured into his lungs.

"I guess I lost this one."

He tried to laugh, but only hacked up some stomach acid.

"I admit, I might have focused too much on raw killing power. Using the Life aspects looks like wonderful sport."

"King Lex!" Safiya barked.

"Huh, what?" he said, climbing over the dragon's back.

"You had said before that you would entrust matters of judgment to your wife. That is unacceptable. If you wish my support for your regime, you must prove yourself capable of making such pivotal decisions. You must prove yourself worth of the mantle of Lord."

She tore her sword free of the dragon's neck, breaking Navlaan's spell. A cold flame danced along the blade once more, as it had in Eleum Loyce.

"Pronounce the fates of the guilty."

She gestured to the dragon.

"An agent of a foreign power who attacked the monarch."

She gestured to Navlaan.

"A rogue actor who purports to serve the nation as mercenary but attacks a neutral party without orders to do so."

In her free hand, she held a golden orb of flame, a Warmth spell just on the verge of being cast.

"Make you decision, King of Izalith. Do not choose based on expediency or upon naive morality. Choose what is best for your people, for those who do not possess our strength of soul."

Lex crossed his arms and sighed.

"Oh, god."

"Be done with them," Lucatiel grunted. "A monster created in that sickening place below us and one of the madmen who performed those experiments. It's not worth another breath."

She sheathed her sword and fell to one knee to catch her breath. She was clearly still haggard from killing her brother's phantom.

"It seems obvious, yeah, but… The dragon didn't do anything to us. And he clearly doesn't like Aldia, which gives him points in my book. I don't know what he's _learned_ from Aldia, but he's the best source we have right now."

Safiya looked at him hard.

"Worst case scenario, he attacks Majula. We certainly don't have any anti-air. I'll tell Raime to develop some greatbow golem prototypes. We've got access to plenty of wyvern bones, so we can try experimenting with making Chinese knockoffs of Gough's dragonbone greatbow. Heal the dragon."

The dragon itself growled low but relegated itself to basking in the Warmth.

"Oh," Navlaan coughed, "take your time. It isn't as if my humors are escaping through my mouth."

"We don't need him. We need the other Navlaan. The legendary necromancer. I'm sure Nito won't appreciate it, but if he's close to the secret of resurrection. Well, the implications are obvious.

Bind him, then heal him, then knock him out. He's not going with the other sorcerers. We're putting him in Sentinel custody until we've opened the gates to Izalith."

"The- Blue- bloody- Sentinels?" Navlaan half-coughed, half-laughed. "You might- as- well- let me- go- free- heh- heh- heh."

"Velstadt joined them."

"Heh. Can't catch a- break."

Safiya cast another healing orb to the sorcerer. She set her sword aside, letting the fire die out.

"Your judgment was satisfactory, if optimistic."

Lex shrugged. Lucatiel scowled. Safiya began to bind the injured Navlaan, tearing shreds from her worn robes, having soaked up a resistance to Chaos Fire over the years. Over the knotted bands, she cast runes of sealing so that the sorcerer couldn't simply use other magics to free himself. The towering Lord dragged the man from the rubble with ease, throwing him ahead of her.

"Where now?"

"We actually have to walk back down. Make sure Navlaan doesn't throw himself down the stairs to break his neck and respawn."

"Oh, spoil my fun," the prisoner hissed.


	23. Lex casually causes a time paradox

"Of course. I'm not some posturing fool," the Fume Knight hissed.

The heat would have brought living humans to unconsciousness within a minute, but a Chaos Lord and the successor of a Monarch were another story. The hammering of the mechanized forges echoed through the tower like thunder. Though the Old Iron King bore the legacy of the King of Gods, his power was a mighty symbol of Man. Not the Dark which claimed Man as its own, but Man himself, who overcame his natural weakness through ingenuity and tenacity. Sorcery, miracles, pyromancy, and hexes – all came together in harmony to drive the great engines of war which had once made Alken great.

The new master of Venn, Prince Raime by his deference to Queen Nadalia, had restored the ancient ironworks in short order. The golems which were the King's legacy remembered their duties, and the hollows which had been his servants heeded the call of their long-awaited Queen. Much of what had been forged were weapons of war, but supplies for the reconstruction and reinforcement of Majula as the capital of Drangleic sat ready as well, waiting only for someone capable of bonfire warping. Yet one project had required the Prince's personal attention. The crow demon Ornifex had been brought to his court, and with his love of ravens, they became fast friends.

"We meet again," she warbled as Lex approached. "I have completed the master pattern as you instructed. Dear Raime provided a few suggestions, but it is little changed in form."

The Fume Prince nodded.

"Give the word, and we can begin mass production. The prototype."

Lex took the sword of black iron, looking it over carefully. Its crossguard was eight gnarled rays like a black and twisted sun. Its blade wound about like an auger. He flipped it backhanded and slammed it into the stone floor. Black-tinged flames spiraled up around the blade, and a wave of shimmering smoke rushed over the trio.

Lex sat down at the Manmade bonfire, tainted by Dark and Chaos.

"I can see them!" he said, grinning. "We're connected to the network!"

"Sorcerers! Add the coiled swords to production line three!"

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Anything you want to say to Vendrick?"

"I said everything once, and he refused to listen. His fate is his own making, just as mine."

Lex nodded and reached for the bonfire. He fell through Dark and Flame, rising in the Undead Crypt. As before, he rushed through to the final chamber. From his belt, he removed the Lost Crowns, retrieved from Straid's laboratory. He slung them around one arm as Quelaag had worn her own tiara in exile.

In his other hand, he held the coalesced orb of Deep Fog. All about Vendrick's discarded armor, brightbugs glimmered like sparks. Cautiously, the prophet held the Ashen Mist Heart toward them, and they scattered the fog all around him. It washed over him like drifting off to sleep, and when he snapped to full awareness, he stood some distance behind the King of Drangleic. The enormous man was alive but withered and hunched over, facing the endless darkness which stretched out and away from the Crypt.

"Seeker of Fire. Coveter of the Throne. I am Vendrick, ruler of Drangleic."

The old warrior didn't so much as move. Exhaustion was clear in his low, gravelly voice.

"I am no King. I am more fit to be a jester. Seeker of Fire. Deliverer of Crowns. What do you see in the Flames?"

"Power. And the will to use it. The will to gather more power. Warmth. Burning."

"I fail to see your design, young moth. But I see very little, these days. _Seeker of fire. Conqueror of Dark. I, too, sought fire, once. With fire, they say, a true king can harness the curse._

 _A lie. But I knew no better. Seeker of fire, you know not the depths of Dark within you. It grows deeper still, the more flame you covet. Flame, oh, flame…_ "

Lex crossed his arms.

"Your senses have been deceived. Even now, you can't sense the Dark, can you?"

"You speak the truth. My dear Shandra concealed her true form and the Dark which followed in her wake. I was blinded by love. And by pride."

"And by Velstadt."

"No. My Aegis only echoed my own fears. Even now, he guards me without rest."

"Yeah, but Raime was suggesting you act like a reasonable adult. Though he probably used an unreasonable amount of shouting."

"Raime? He disappeared one day. He could accept my indecision no longer and departed."

"He and Velstadt actually had a winner-take-all bet. Raime lost and was forced to leave."

There was a pause.

"He left because of my indecision all the same."

"So that's it? You just hide away? You're afraid the Queen will take the Throne, so you spend – what, years – constructing an elaborate gauntlet to keep her from reaching it? All that time, lying to her like she was lying to you?"

"If you seek to shame me, you can do no more than I have already done to myself."

Lex tapped his foot rhythmically. One, three-four. One, three-four.

 _Mmm. I get it._

 _Gimme a little credit._

 _I remember_

 _When I was that pathetic._

 _Wear my scars on my sleeve_

 _For all the world to see_

 _Like, look what they did to me, quick,_

 _Lay on the sympathy, thick._

 _You probably have a right_

 _To feel like you do._

 _You were mistreated and cheated_

 _Out of the marriage you needed._

 _You know, you'll never succeed if_

 _You're so convinced you're defeated._

 _If you're obsessed with your yesterday,_

 _Then you're destined to repeat it._

"All alone in the dark again, King Vendyll of New Londo? I brought what's left of your co-conspirators."

He dropped the Lost Crowns unceremoniously on the stone floor.

"You'll have to forgive me if I couldn't find Kaathe."

"How tragically amusing, that one so young could uncover a history it took lifetimes for me to remember… and that you would be the one to seek me here."

At last, the ancient King stirred, weakly turning to face the intruder.

"What is your name, young moth?"

"King Lexaeus of Izalith. Consort of the second Daughter of Chaos. Lord of Life. Slayer of the Father of the Abyss. I come from another history, where the Witch Beatrice devoured you and your companions and became the Dark Lord.

It was she who Linked the Flame. As Dark spreads, she grows more powerful, providing more fuel for the Flame. As the Flame rises, the Dark grows deeper. The Flame will never die."

Vendrick frowned and licked his lips with a dry tongue.

"Well," he said at last, "what of the Curse?"

"We can use it as we please. We saved the world by concentrating the Dark in Lordran. Man has returned to the so-called prop of life, except where we wish it. Undead only hollow when they are broken or sapped of the will to live. Those of us Undead left are truly immortal, because we have nothing to fear."

The King looked down at the scattered Crowns. He shifted uncomfortably, dragging them together and setting them upright.

"We must look monsters."

"The horns don't help. I mean, I married a literal demon. Chaos has always killed out of hunger. Sometimes the end justifies the means. But you failed to reach that end, which I did without killing anyone who didn't deserve it."

"We were… not desperate. Not yet. Overzealous. Prideful. We spoke of saving our people, but we thought of them as treasures to preserve… or spend, if needed.

I can only faintly remember much of it, a lifetime ages ago. But I remember clearly that there was no grand fall. No one act that damned us. It was subtle. A faint temptation, a minor transgression.

Like my Shandra's voice, whispering for me to be bolder, stronger, until I had crossed the sea and overthrown the giants in their own land. It was not so different from Chaos."

"You say that like we don't know that it could explode and destroy an entire civilization with lava and demons. You'd think the entire populace of Oolacile going missing would be a clue. Kaathe straight-up used the same plan twice. And it worked."

Vendrick closed his eyes and sighed.

"What is your purpose in coming here, young Lord? One who lived through that ancient age has no need of half-forgotten memories of a past lifetime."

"But you know how I got here, right?"

"Through the mist, by the power of the dragon. It is merely an echo, but with the power of giants, it resonates with the ancient dragons. Even its call is imperfect and fails to travel such a grand distance. Yet it is sufficient to bridge the span of a few mortal lifetimes."

"And you're aware that this isn't just a memory? That it can be changed?"

"To do so would risk much. A fool's endeavor."

"Too bad. Already did it in Oolacile. Now, there wasn't a paradox there because the Lord's Blade put in a lot of effort to hide what we did. At least until Artorias went for a walk and ended up in New Londo. But the thing is – this is already an alternate future. Changing the past doesn't mean much."

"What could you accomplish? The scope of the memory is limited by the passage made by its witness. I have not left this chamber for as long as my fading consciousness can remember."

"To start with, I can goad you. You know, Elba is still alive. Missing legs, but we can grow those back. Queen Alsanna spoke with Nashandra. She knows what I know now, and that trying to take the Throne is futile. Your defenses will mean nothing against Velka, whenever she arrives – I don't know what she's doing.

But no. That's the real reason I'm here. I saved my world. But it took a Dark Lord to do so. To save this world, I need someone who can fulfill that role.

I'm going to give Nashandra the Throne."

"The Flame fades, but as long as it is sealed, there is hope that another will relight it. Shandra would destroy even the last embers."

"Well, maybe not, if she thought her husband was worth the Flame."

"It is not in her-"

"I think you're mistaken. Alsanna spent centuries keeping the Old Chaos contained. Nadalia killed herself. Elana was feeding a dragon souls in preparation for unleashing it on Drangleic. Dangerous, maybe, but the prior Queens were all faithful. So what about the one who took the form of their Father's obsession?

After so many years, Manus' soul still remembers Dusk. A daughter who looks just like her Father's one-sided love, who's the very embodiment of his Want. Wouldn't she be the truest of all?"

Vendrick looked at the Crowns.

"It is too late to reconsider. My time is at an end."

"But what would you do, if you did have one last chance?"

"I would… apologize. Should she be the most treacherous witch to ever live, she was still my wife… and deserved better. I was a poor King and a poor husband."

Lex picked up the Crowns again and handed them to Vendrick. He held up his gold-hemmed black talisman and began a simple hymn in the language of the gods.

"Farewell," Vendrick said, recognizing the spell. "May you find what you seek."

"Who said I was leaving alone?"

The spell continued, incorporating foreign elements.

"Mass. Homeward," Lex said emphatically.

A ring of holy runes expanded around his feet, forming an enormous field which just barely bounded the enormous King.

"You would only send me back to the bonfire at the front of the Crypt."

"Nope. Designed the spell to send everyone to the caster's last bonfire. Like what I did with the eternal ferrystone and the endless escort quests in Dragon's Dogma."

Light streamed from the talisman. It burnt away the mist of memory. The fog surged back, trying to hold the history of the world together, but it could hold back the miracle no more than the ancient dragons could hold back the Flame. The Undead vanished with a glimmer and reappeared with the roar of the bonfire. The warped black sword sparked as the miracle fought the Dark used in its construction, but the two men emerged in the heart of the Brume factories.

"Welcome back, Lord Izalith. _Vendrick_."

Raime was there to greet them, though his long years alone in Brume with Nadalia had thoroughly cemented his resentment against his former king. Without his armor, he was a slight man. Though he wielded such a massive blade, his Undead body had retained the lithe fencer's shape he had possessed during life. Though he had at last removed his armor in favor of some of Alonne's old robes, he still wore a mask so that he could breathe more comfortably amidst the toxic fumes of the forges. Dark goggles sat on his forehead above cold black eyes, and his wild black hair fell about his shoulders like flame.

"Raime," Vendrick said. "It has been some time."

"Obviously. Have you come here because Izalith has restored your spine, or are you going to keep lying on the floor with the dust and cast-off scrap?"

Inhuman whispers flooded the chamber.

"Her Highness wonders if you're really worthy of her sister. That's a different way of looking at it. You were so easily poisoned against their kind by Velstadt."

"To be fair," Lex said, "his last little fling with the Dark didn't turn out that well. I think things would have turned out better for both sides if Velstadt and Ingward switched places."

Vendrick grunted and hauled his heavy, near-hollow body to its feet.

"You may be right. It was my weakness which undid the kingdom. It was I who betrayed its people, who held faith to the last. Raime, the decision fell to me whether to act on Velstadt's suspicions. There too, the fault is mine alone."

"Guilt is fine, but what are you going to _do,_ you useless shell of a man?"

"I will return to the castle and make things right. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I must ask for your help. I am too weak to face Nashandra alone. Will you fight for me one last time?"

Raime's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms.

"It's not my choice to make. Ask Queen Nadalia, sister to the wife you abandoned."

Vendrick looked around for the source of the whispers. Seeing nothing, he knelt where he stood and addressed the air.

"I have learned only a little of you, Queen Nadalia of Alken, would-be lover of the Iron King Eifritt. It is from his writings which I learned the art of bringing life to bodies of earth. Before, I knew him as Faroh. We Four Kings were equals, but he was our leader – just, fair, but above all else, willing to do what needed be done. Faroh tried to bear all the burdens himself, and he broke from the strain. Just as Eifritt's castle sinks into the fires he dredged up.

I was given time to think while I faced my demise in the Crypt. Just as a shadow crudely takes the shape of the Fire which casts it, the Abyss mimics our world of Light. You Queens match the four of us, for good or ill. It was never possible for you to meet Eifritt. Like Faroh, you must bear all burdens alone.

I am afraid. How pitiful Shandra must be, to follow the form of such a wretched and unfit King as I."

"God, angst just runs in this family," Lex murmured. "Vendrick Uchiha."

"Things as they are, I must beg a favor of you. Please, lend me your Knight so that I might return to her in a shape better befitting a King."

There was a brief pause, then the whispers started again. As always, Raime interpreted.

"Her Highness has agreed," he said, an edge to his voice. "I will accompany you until Queen Nashandra has forgiven you or ended your life."

"You are most gracious, Queen Nadalia. And thank you, Raime, for your steadfast loyalty, if not to me."

The Fume Knight said nothing.

"Okay, great! Let's go get Velstadt!"

The Fume Knight's eye twitched.


	24. You can't win them all

" _Velstadt_."

"Raime."

"Lex!"

The prophet shouting his own name fortunately helped to diffuse some of the tension. Safiya rolled her eye, but Vendrick seemed grateful.

"I have been a source of great pain to you both," the King said. "I cannot beg your forgiveness – only that you help me right the wrongs I have committed. Upon you and upon this kingdom."

"My lord," Velstadt said, bowing deeply.

Raime only grunted.

"Then let us make haste, for I dread to keep either of you from your new duties for long."

Targray and the Old Dragonslayer stood hesitantly to one side. As warriors of Heide, they had once held the Tower of Flame against Vendrick's dragonriders. It was one thing to accept a sincere offer of service from the fallen King's most noble knight. It was quite another to so easily let a Sentinel go at his former master's bequest. The Sentinel-Commander watched the King closely, while the Dragonslayer looked to the Prophet.

Lex gave a curt nod. Vendrick was honest in his request for aid, and the animosity between the King and the Rebel was true. The Dragonslayer signed as much to Targray, and both relaxed a little.

"Fret not," Vendrick said, turning away from the knights at last. "I dare not keep Velstadt from you any longer than I Raime from his Queen. I have little doubt the Blue Sentinels are the nearest thing this decayed land has to a force of order."

"Wayward King," Targray said pompously as always. "We would wish nothing more than for your aid in putting an end to these bloodthirsty times. Take this knight with my blessing."

"I thank you for your understanding," Vendrick said humbly, reading between the lines. "Good prophet, young Lord. Would you be so kind as to guide us to the castle? I have little doubt that bonfires have been set within its grounds."

"Yep," he said, bobbing his head. "Let's rock and roll."

Lucatiel stayed with the Sentinels to watch over Navlaan, but the Chaos duo and Vendrick's entourage headed down the spiral staircase to the Cathedral's dueling arena and bonfire. A flash of flame later, and they were in the basement storage of the castle once more. They descended the stairs opposite the main cellar, and the two kings raised their King's Ring at the same time.

"Awkward!" Lex said, breaking the oppressive silence.

"Truthfully," Vendrick agreed. "There are now two of this ring, of which only one was meant to exist."

"Made from a piece of the Lordvessel, right? There's like a million of those. You know what's really wrong with all this time travel? Last time I played, I had enough duplicates of the Giant Lord's soul to make a waterpark. But, you know, with souls. Like the lake in the opening cutscene that's never seen again."

He paused.

"Drangleic. Everything in 3 is just Drang. Was it supposed to be Drang Lake?"

Vendrick ignored the out-of-setting topic of transliteration error.

"It would be disturbing, I think, for there to exist more than one of one's own soul," Vendrick said. "I see that you and your companion both hold duplicates of the Old Witch's soul. Yet that instance is not so disconcerting because it is not your own… and because the duplicates have aged differently. Hers bears the weight of countless tragedies while yours has found peace."

"That's probably because my Witch-in-law's glad that her Daughter has finally stopped being a recluse and gotten herself laid. Heh. Recluse. Spider."

It was a testament to how slow the door was that they were able to finish the conversation before it had opened completely. Another of Shanalotte's projections was just beyond the door, leaning against the wall. Of course, she had expected to give some amount of final advice to the Bearer of the Curse. She absolutely did not expect the hollowed King. She froze, her one visible eye wide as could be.

"It has been some time, Shanalotte, Child of Dragons."

She forced herself to blink, brows knitting.

"…King Vendrick."

"You need not say anything. It is I who must apologize. To you and to many others. Flame is a curse as true as any Dark. I was blinded for so long. Now, I must look clearly at all I have burnt."

Raime crossed his arms and grumbled. Ignoring him, Shanalotte looked to the King.

"Will you take the Throne?"

"That is my choice no longer. I am but a withered husk. I have seen man's true form but retain this mask for vanity's sake."

"Actually," Lex interrupted, "he's got a whole lot of beard, and burning hair smells awful, so no. I am actually the opposite of helpful and giving it to Nashandra."

"You would…?"

"You know what bootstrapping means? Doesn't matter – turns out if you throw something Dark into the First Flame that also reaches outside of the First Flame, it generates a feedback loop. The Fire deepens the Dark, and the Dark fuels the Fire. You know how it goes – if you man a man a fire, he'll be warm for the night, but if you set a man on fire, he'll be warm for the rest of his life."

The Herald's mouth hung halfway open in confusion. Safiya squeezed his shoulder and gave a disapproving look.

"Is this not a serious confrontation to which we are headed?"

"Yeah-"

"Then stop harassing the girl and lead us."

The prophet sighed and shrugged at Shanalotte before turning back to the path. A narrow stretch of stone stairs were suspended above a seemingly infinite chasm. Flames sat atop pillars rising from the darkness on either side, though there was no clear source of fuel.

"Please, excuse us," Vendrick said, bowing his head. "Today, I will settle the debts I have let grow."

The enormity of the King and his men meant that the party had to walk the winding path in single file. At last, they reached the bottommost part of the chamber which could be reached on foot. An enormous structure stood embedded in the cavern wall. The entrance was blocked by a fog wall.

"Vendrick, you first. We might be able to avoid a fight with the Wonder Twins."

"After all these years, they still guard the Throne?"

"They could do no less," Velstadt said. "Still, I am surprised they have resisted the Queen's influence for so long. The Dark of the Crypt has long worn on me. I can only fearfully imagine what tricks _her_ subtle presence played on their minds."

Vendrick grimaced.

"Yes. Let us see what my negligence has wrought."

He pushed through the fog, followed quickly by his Aegis. The Prophet and the Sinner came next. Raime paused, scanning the chasm for the Queen's presence. Finding nothing, he too entered the structure. From within, it could be seen to be a dome with a hole at its apex and cinders beneath – it was a kiln.

Two figures stood ahead, a woman in white and a man in black. Both held a greatsword and kite shield, the woman southpaw. Both wore masked helms, but a long gray beard trailed from beneath the man's faceplate down to his belt.

"How many lifetimes has it been, my friends?" Vendrick said sadly.

The King fell to his knees and lowered his head.

"My lord!" Velstadt said, jumping.

The Throne Watcher and Throne Defender hurried to their knees in turn.

"Your… Majesty…" they wheezed in unison.

"Raise your heads," Vendrick said solemnly. "I am not worthy of any such title. I have come to put an end to your vigil."

They rose hesitantly. At some prodding from Velstadt, the King too stood before he could offer any further apologies.

"I don't like this, Lex," Safiya whispered.

"Small wonder," the prophet replied, nodding. "This isn't Ilyon's style. It's Izalith's. There's the dome design instead of a funnel; the Throne at the center, surrounded by a pit. This is a miniature version of the Kiln of the _Chaos_ Flame."

The Sinner grunted uncomfortably. Meanwhile, Vendrick and his servants had spent a small time becoming reacquainted. At last, the old King turned about.

"I am still blind as I ever was. But perhaps this withered old flame is a bit wiser. Shandra, I cannot feel your presence, but I know you. I know you are watching. Please, let us speak."

"Vendrick."

Through the fog wall, a terrifying skull emerged. The top half was human, but there were far too many teeth, and bands of ridged, bony plates directly connected the bottom row and the collarbone. The entire creature was a hideous thing of sterile bone and mummified connecting tissues. Tendrils undulated from the back of its head, and it was crowned with a tiara made of teeth. It wore a gown made from the writhing bones of countless dead heroes, and in its hand was a scythe which had the character of the ancient Effigy Shield created by Velka's necromancer pawns.

"Shandra…"

Now that she was there, Vendrick struggled to find the words.

"Tell her she looks like she's lost weight," Lex whispered.

Safiya stepped on his foot.

"What is it you wish, pitiful ghost of a failed Monarch? Or have you come as the mere servant of your would-be successor?"

"My dear Shandra… can you find it in your heart to forgive a man so obsessed with his mortality that he forgot all else?"

"Gutless and spineless. The moment you entered, you crawled upon the floor like the slug you are. You ask for forgiveness you have not earned with a life bought for you by a man who has achieved in a span of days what you spent your lifetime pursuing."

Vendrick winced. Raime snorted.

"Queen Nashandra," the Fume Prince interrupted. "It's a pleasure to see you again – and in your true form at last."

He bowed, but not too deeply.

"Since Lord Izalith has said he'll let you take the Throne, I hope we can work together in the future. Your sister, my mistress, Queen Nadalia, would love to hear from you."

"You dare?" Velstadt growled.

"I agreed to help protect Vendrick. I never said I wasn't here for my purposes. It is my Queen's desire to see her beloved's forges outfitting the greatest fighting force in the world as they did in the age past. If Drangleic's armies rise again to fuel the desires of a Queen of Want, then Brume will be its staunchest ally. This was always your weakness, Velstadt – the weakness of a cleric bound by dogma. People aren't like your musty holy books – they change. And Vendrick, for the worse."

"You-!"

Velstadt hefted his bell-hammer to the ready. The Throne Watcher and Throne Defender too raised their swords to defend against their old foe the Queen and the self-professed traitor. Safiya looked to the prophet. He held up one hand, signaling for her to wait and watch.

"Stand down," Vendrick ordered. "Do not fight on my accord."

He stepped forward, waving the others away. His sword and shield remained on his back, and he approached the hideous creature of Dark with open arms.

"Shandra, I have always known, I think, that you have sought power. Perhaps, even, that is what attracted me to you. I know you lust for power because of your weakness. I understand that feeling of helplessness. Only one thing eludes me.

Why is it that you seek the Dark? You were born from from it, true. Yet it would destroy you just as it would any other. A world of true Dark is just as colorless as a world of endless Flame or everlasting dragons."

"If you believe I have the respect for you to answer that question, you are gravely mistaken."

Lex popped his knuckles to break up the flow of conversation.

"Hey Raime, you had the power to purify Nadalia. Why did you join her?"

"Mm?" he grunted, caught off guard. "She didn't judge me by my history. She didn't place any expectations on me. Her voice was clearer, then – I knew she wasn't attacking me by choice, but in a nightmarish fugue. She accepted me as I was, and I did the same."

"Right. And Vendrick, after a lifetime of conquest, Nashandra brought peace, didn't she?"

"She did."

"Rightright, so that's it. She just wants a rest."

"Do not put words in my mouth, Kingling. Vanquish me with your lightning and declare victory if you must, but I will not be subject to your justifications."

Silence filled the kiln. They'd reached an impasse. Things had not fallen in with Lex's expectations, and they were at a loss for how to proceed.

"You do not have to explain anything, Shandra," Vendrick said suddenly. "Only, walk with me a time. Let us find a path beyond Dark and Flame. Surely, we can find some compromise. I do not ask your love, only your aid."

The withered King extended a hand. Nashandra looked down at it. Her stance shifted, and her scythe wheeled around before the Royal Aegis could react. With a glint of humanity's white glow, it tore a vivid line through the stone floor. Though Vendrick's arm quavered with the weakness of his near-hollowed body, it hadn't moved. The Queen ground her many teeth.

"You leave me little choice."

She extended her too-long arm and took his hand.

" _Ah. I could not have imagined this would be the result of that bauble._ "

The whole cavern shook, and fire began to gush from the ground some distance away. The hideous mass of flesh and wood that was Aldia rose from the embers. The Duke was a thing like a deformed human head, only as tall as a giant. The glowing red eyes of a hollow peered out from the cancerous, withering wood.

" _I had known from the beginning that it would allow some minor manipulation of history. It was fated to occur, so I allowed the Heart to be given freely to would-be Monarchs. To think it would be used to recreate the lost and forbidden art of resurrection._

 _Dear Vendrick, do you still seek the pleasant illusion of love? You will find only betrayal. The only honest thing in this world is the pursuit of truth itself, for its own sake._ "

"Wait, doesn't that mean that you're not being honest with him right now?"

Aldia rumbled and glared at Lex with enough malice to satisfy the acolytes of Nahr Alma. A thin smile broke across Vendrick's face.

"He has you, brother. Your flair for the dramatic has come to bite you again."

The King seemed perfectly composed despite his wife being a mass of skeletons and his brother being a half-formed demon.

He continued, "Did we not uncover the existence of those who became dragons? Your experiments and acolytes never fully succeeded, true. But they proved the theory. If Undead can become dragons at will, what else can will bring about? Must a lie remain a lie?

We can start anew, Aldia. We can atone for what we have done. And we can find what lies beyond the rules the world has set for us."

" _You are still blind. You may decorate your cage, but it will remain a cage._ "

"I am bound by no cage. The gods may have created these forms, but we make them our own."

"Case in point-" Lex added.

The belts on his armor unbuckled. Tendrils half made of wood and half insectile chitin slithered from beneath his plates. His eyes flashed writhing runes.

"I'm more powerful than you. Are you really arrogant enough to say you have more freedom than the Lord of Chaos, you fake hedgehog?"

"There is no need for that," Vendrick said, waving a hand. "Brother, will you not lend me your aid again? We have been mistaken about a great many things. How can we discount the young Lord's ideas just because they contradict what we think we know?"

" _I must decline. I have no interest in limiting myself to what lies between Dark and Flame. I look forward to what you may uncover, but I will not be bound by your naivety. Farewell, Vendrick._ "

"Farewell, brother."

"Stay out of the water! I don't want to fight Micolash!"

As the Duke vanished into a whirl of flames once more, all eyes turned to the prophet.

"Right, so now that we're on the same page, let's get this kiln going. There's that trick I mentioned to get free energy, but first, we've got to figure out why nobody can see humanity anymore…"


	25. Beards going nowhere

"Incredible," Vendrick said, looking around. "This was ruins when you arrived?"

"A simple task for the bored and tireless," Nashandra huffed.

Velstadt had regretfully returned to his new duties at the Cathedral of Blue, while Raime returned to Brume Tower to report to his mistress. The Throne Watcher and Defender had resumed their duties, though without the constant threat of the Queen, they found rest at long last. Nashandra and Vendrick had accompanied the Chaos Lords to Majula. While Vendrick's time in the Crypt and closeness to hollowing had given him some insight into his prior life, questions about the diminished state of the world would require further analysis. Such analysis, of course, could only be performed by the greatest minds in the world – who conveniently all already worked for Lex.

That said, the construction which had been going on throughout Majula had taken on an entirely different direction. With limited space to spread out on the cliffside, and the rats claiming all territory beneath the ground, there was nowhere to go but up. The Undead must have knocked down half the Forest of Fallen Giants and quarried deep into Harvest Valley in pursuit of raw materials. The ruined village had sprung up into a single elaborate complex several storeys high – and still under construction.

"You know what, I want to blame Raime for this, but since I don't think he's even been here, it was _probably_ Mytha. Does this even resemble anything in Berserk? Does this mean I'm Griffith? I don't think I'm pretty enough to be Griffith."

Once they had left the privacy of the Throneroom, Nashandra had assumed her human guise once more. Still, the deception was obvious in her being the size of a Lord but neither warrior nor sorcerer. Worse was that the newly-constructed township was too small for either of the rulers. Doors were human-sized, and while the ceilings within were high enough for Safiya to stand, Vendrick and Nashandra would have to crouch.

The tower-city had a single iron gate. Arrow slits provided a means for the inhabitants to safely look out at any who approached, as if an invading army would survive the journey to Drangleic. Several paces away, the gate rose suddenly, and a mustachioed fop in a monocle stepped out.

"Hey there! You must be the Prophet and company! Why, it's a pleasure to- Is that King Vendrick?"

"I am King no longer," he said, "but I am Vendrick."

"A pleasure. I am Magerold of Lanafir. It's a pleasure to meet you all. As you can see, I've been set to lookout duty, but I was told to watch for an Undead who talks too much and travels with a Lord wearing tatters. Oh, and that must be Queen Nashandra. You look lovely as the paintings."

"Charmed."

"How'd you end up here, Magerold?" Lex asked, cocking his head. "I thought you were content trying to sell nicknacks in the sinking castle."

"There was still plunder to be had there… Queen Mytha found me while she was performing some scavenging of her own. I won't say she ordered me here… but it felt like it. Still, it's nice to have a more reliable place to sell my finds. Oh, but look at me talk. Please, after you."

He ushered them in, though it was a tight squeeze for the royal couple. The interior was rough and unfinished, but that also meant there weren't any hanging decorations to catch on them. The entry hall was wide, and passages extended in all three other directions. The smokeless Far Fire sat in an alcove of its own. Shanalotte reclined on a collection of wooden chairs stolen from across Drangleic, kicking her feet idly.

"Bearer of the Curse," she started.

She saw the group that had entered. There was a long, awkward moment where no one said anything. Nashandra glared at her with a condescending venom.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" Magerold interrupted obliviously.

"Yes, that. Also, where are the wizards? Where's the cabal of casters; the society of sorcerers; the workshop of warlocks?"

"Ah, they did call it a workshop, I believe. This way."

Magerold led them to what had once been Shalquoir's home but had somehow evolved into a two-storey laboratory. Equipment from Tseldora, Alken, and Venn littered the facility while inscrutable magic formulae covered the walls. Rosabeth glanced toward the newcomers but was trapped in a discussion with her master. Aside from her, only sensitive Felkin glanced away from his work.

"Fee-Fee-ble-ble cur-cur-sed-sed one-one!"

The echo was downright painful. Lex looked up to the catwalk to see a pair of Straids.

"Oh god, they're multiplying."

"Consider yourself lucky," one said. "This level of sophistication took years to develop."

"Fortunately, my future self decided to share his vast wealth of knowledge."

"Can we have you guys grow different beards or something so we can tell you apart? Like how in _Superior Iron Man_ , Good Tony had his stupid mustache from the 90s because he was a recording of Tony from the 90s. Future Straid, you need to grow a more evil beard."

"Heh heh heh. I will consider it," one identical Straid said. "Now, to address the matter of my arrival here. We all applied different techniques to the task. A few of us died or went missing, but I doubt that information is useful, since I have no memory of meeting my future self."

"So the Self-Consistency Principle goes out the window, and we're dealing with crazy multiverse shit. Got it."

"Well, not quite," Future Straid said, rubbing his beard. "I have tried going backward and forward, but each time, I arrive at the same offset. If I were to return to my own time, wait five minutes, then travel here again, five minutes would have passed for you as well. We have not been able to set a particular time – only relative ones, like 'before I discovered this technique' or 'the disappearance of King Vendrick.' It is good to finally meet you, wayward King. Your treatise on the joining of souls between rider and mount was quite entertaining."

"Ah," Vendrick said, frowning. "That was a mistake I would have hoped was long forgotten."

"What discovery does not require sacrifice? We have killed that Saulden fellow a great number of times."

"Wait, what?"

"It is simple," the Present Straid said. "Whenever there is a great danger in these experiments, we abduct a Saulden from the past. He has been in Majula for quite some time. The original seems in no danger, so we have simply kept quiet about that."

"That is really interesting ethics-wise, but wow, you guys are dicks."

Safiya gave Lex a judging glare.

"Anyway, that's probably not going to fly once we officially start having laws and stuff. We'll probably do something else that's questionable, like having you abduct Licia instead. Anyway, show me what you've got."

"Of course! Results are all that matters in the end. Behold, the greatest development in history!"

The Straids gestured to the center of the room. While the other sorcerers were frantically trying to complete their own developments, Grandahl seemed to be performing some sort of diagnostic on the structure indicated. It was like both the altars which opened the Dark Chasm of Old and those which led to the lands of the former Kings. There were a number of concentric rings etched into the floor and three columns shaped like three intertwined serpents. At the center was a large, engraved basin, to which Grandahl seemed to be making adjustments.

As they neared, Lex recognized it.

"This is… a Lordvessel. How did you-?"

"You had mentioned one was here, long ago. Imagine our surprise to have found it above the ceiling in the mansion's basement."

"I'm so meta even this acronym. But sure. How did this work out? And how did you two end up working together?"

"Young hollow," Grandahl wheezed. "It is no more difficult for sorcerers to work together than for warriors. Just as you have accumulated followers because they respect your will, we have joined our efforts because we respect one another's minds. If the others are too blinded by pride to see the benefit, then that is their burden to bear."

He rolled his chair around to face the newcomers.

"Ah, Your Highness, Queen Nashandra. It is a pleasure to meet you again. I hope that in the coming society of Undead, wearing such a false form will not be necessary."

"Pilgrim. I had wondered why you had gone for so long. It seems even you are not immune to this braggart's wiles."

"He promised to introduce me to your sisters. I had hoped they might be more forthcoming in speaking of your nature as children of the Abyss."

The Queen gave Lex a sharp look but said nothing.

"Queen Nashandra," Grandahl continued. "This is a matter which should interest you greatly. No longer must we cope with mere echoes of the Abyss. We can return to a time when it was whole."

"Foolish Pilgrim, you lack the proper fear of my Father."

"He's killed me before," Lex interrupted, "but it's not like he's super-dangerous like a real dragon or Ludwig or anything. So how does the Stargate work, here?"

"Just as the Dark has given us life, you must sacrifice your life to it. Or use a suitable proxy," Grandahl said with a stern look.

"It requires a human effigy – or blood in a pinch, like when I had to escape that far future overrun by beasts," Future Straid clarified.

Lex gave him a deadpan stare.

"I literally just told Aldia not to stir up the Deep. God, fine. Anything else? Usually, you need a key item to open these sorts of things."

"You are correct," Present Straid said. "The reason why we hold only vague control over the destination time is because the ritual requires a material focus corresponding to the era."

"Right. The pendant. So on that note, I have my sword and my wedding band and, like, the guitar, I guess? We wouldn't want to use the first two, because that'd take us to a time before Velka was sealed. Sure, we'd have an easier time dealing with her, but if she doesn't already know about time travel being a thing, I don't want to give her any ideas. It'd be too easy for her to fake her death, disappear, and steal a bunch of different hers from other times to become some sort of invincible Mega-Velka. Before we try the guitar, though, I have something else we can try."

He glanced around the workshop. After a moment, he caught sight of McDuff, carving away at a long, bent frame of ivory. It was shaped like a lopsided boomerang and was studded with numerous crystals.

"Is that a Webway portal? I should have guessed it, with the crystal fetish and everything. McSeath, yo! We might need you on this one!"

"Flame…" the possessed smith hissed as turned about and clumsily strutted over. "Prophet, I see you have brought some illustrious company. The latest in a long line of cowardly Kings."

"Yeah, funny story about that, I actually need you two to work together on something. But first, you've been around forever, basically. Why can't people see humanity anymore? And why do human effigies restore human form without having to be thrown into a bonfire?"

"Oh, and I had almost forgotten about those detestable sprites. The workings of Dark are hardly my concern. Why not ask the Darkdiver? I am sure he would give you a more suitable explanation."

"Grandahl?"

"You speak of the free-willed fragments of the Dark Soul, do you not, young Undead? There is no clear answer, but I believe it must surely be because the Flame has long been weak."

Now, even Grandahl was giving Vendrick a dirty look.

"The human effigies are an easier topic. They are like men in miniature and serve as surrogates for the so-called Curse, just as purging stones do. Only, they are far easier to acquire."

"Well, that's one mystery solved. Doesn't really help us with the needing lots of humanity thing, but now we know. I guess it doesn't matter since we can just abuse time travel freely, it looks like. Back on track, I think I have a solution to the issue of aiming the portal, if Vendrick and Seath can figure out how to rig it up as the focus."

"The Heart," Vendrick said, his lip just barely curling into a grin. "Ordinarily, it is only capable of transmitting its bearer into dying memories. With an external power source, there is no telling how far it could reach. Undead die many times."

"Well, I've, uh, not died recently at all. I was kind of hoping we could just go to arbitrary portions of my memory since I'm alive and still have all of them and everything."

"I am afraid not. The Heart's magic relies pathways worn by the Cycle."

"Ugh. Of course it wouldn't be that convenient."

"Shortsighted prophet! What happens when you sleep?" one of the Straids said suddenly.

"Uh? Does anybody know? Everything just kind of goes black, and sometimes you dream?"

"What do you suppose those would be?"

"I dunno. Subconscious processes- oh! Is it a Bloodborne thing? Are we just doing that now?"

"Focus, boy! You enter mutable memories in a state akin to death."

Vendrick shook his head.

"That won't work. Mere dreams have no bearing on the Cycles of the world."

"Ahh, but your thinking is limited to one world," Seath said, catching on. "Dreams border on worlds beyond this one. Dreaming could truly be considered a form of death. Allow me see this artifact you intend to use. Perhaps it can be perverted to follow different pathways."


	26. The Sinner goes to HFIL

A Lordvessel gurgled as the lava which filled it oozed over the sides. The Chaos roots wound about it twitched in ecstasy as the power of their creator surged from the bowels of the Dark within the Flame. The hazy smoke of an activating bonfire washed over the room. Long fingers tore themselves above the surface of the liquid stone.

"Lana, there's something coming!"

"I'll seal it!"

"Wait, King Lex could have sent it!"

"You're too trusting, dear."

Third Princess Quelana and her consort Laurentius stood at the ready as the too-long arm grasped the side of the basin, drawing its body out. A manacle carved from stone archtree dangled from its wrist.

"Would Brother send a criminal to us? The portal has compromised us!"

"Please, calm down. Undead were often persecuted and locked away."

"Does that arm look like it belongs to an Undead who could be locked away?"

"Well, no, but… don't tell him I said this… don't tell anyone. It makes me seem a hypocrite, since pyromancers are usually the ones who suffer from prejudice, but… Doesn't His Highness have strange tastes? When I heard he offered to court Queen Laag when they first met, well, I couldn't help but think he was some sort of pervert."

"Oh, he definitely is."

By now, the second arm had forced its way out of the magma, which was spilling over the runic rings around the basin which ought have sealed it. A strangely long silhouette rose from the Lordvessel, dripping molten stone like the Prince.

"D-don't move!" Quelana said, holding a pair of pyromancy flames at the ready.

They were no longer the same flames which her long lineage of students possessed. Her staunch refusal of Chaos even as it powered the city in which she lived had caused them to take on a new aspect. They dripped with golden runes of sealing, the likes of which were powerful enough to bind the Dark Lord again if the need rose. From correspondence with the Dark Sun, they now possessed the ineffable sealing power that the Great Lord had used to contain the other Lords.

"Might I wipe my face at least?"

The lava-covered silhouette seemed well-spoken.

"Of co-! Sorry."

Laurentius held his tongue at a glare from his wife. Quelana's eyes went wide.

"Mother's soul… you've killed him!"

"No, I-"

Quelana flicked her arms forward, making synchronized motions in the air. Before the spell could be completed, the figure lurched out of the Lordvessel. It splashed a globlet of lava into the witch's eyes, distracting her casting. Laurentius quickly threw a Flash Sweat onto himself and hurried to protect his wife, but the figure ran past him, bashing down the stone door with its shoulder. Sliding to a stop before it hurtled over the balcony outside, it turned one way, then the other. After a moment's indecision, it dashed off to the right.

"That fool! And I was a fool to believe this would end satisfactorily!"

Safiya wiped the lava from her face as she raced toward the faint presence of the Witch's soul in the distance. If anyone could recognize that her soul wasn't stolen from the idiot, it would be his wife, who had the other half. She'd hardly made any progress through the needlessly complicated compound before an alarm began to sound like an ominous bell. Countless stone golems in the shape of spiders began to flood the halls. Each fired a grappling hook from their backs, trying to bind the intruder in a web of Chaos vines.

Safiya lunged into the air and over the bulk of the cords. With a kick off the wall, she twisted through the rest of them. The next stretch of path had a storey beneath it, so as the spiders closed in on her, she vaulted over the rail and dropped to the lower floor. The Sinner's greatsword flashed from her back as humanoid golems approached her with great machetes of crude iron. Rather than fight through them and chip the blade, she used the tremendous length of the weapon as a lever to throw them over.

She rushed ahead blindly, ignoring side passages in favor of heading directly for the Queen. As long as she kept running at full tilt, her long stride meant the golems couldn't catch her, and their static defenses wouldn't be enough to stop her. Too confident, she was easily caught unaware. One moment, she was blazing ahead. The next, she was thrown to the stone by her own momentum.

Her steaming-hot blood sizzled, and her sword sparked as she was dragged backward across the floor. She went limp, then torqued her body around, intent on bowling over her attacker.

"Oh my word!"

She found her face pressed into abs cut as if a marble statue. She and the Xanthous King tumbled to the ground together.

"P-pardon me!" she said, rising more quickly than her temperature.

As she tried to flee, however, she had forgotten that Jeremiah's thorny whip was still digging into her ankle. With a grunt, he used her momentum to pull himself to his feet. A step further, and he jerked the opposite direction, dropping her leg out from under her. Safiya took a quick swipe at the whip with her sword, but Chaos flames ran down the former king's weapon, reinforcing it. In the moment it took her to focus on igniting her own flames of cold Chaos, Jeremiah unleashed a lash of magma from his pyromancy flame, catching the manacle on her sword arm.

"I don't suppose you'll allow me a moment to explain my presence here?" she said between gritted teeth.

The hardened old man looked in her one eye. He softened.

"Ah, I can see it. Poor Quelana still hasn't found relief from her fears. That distant future where the Lords were reborn – you inherited Quel's soul, didn't you?" He sighed. "Well, you've probably been more polite in this one moment than she was in her entire life."

"Well, thank you for that." There was an awkward pause. "Could you please… remove your whips?"

"I said you could speak. I didn't say you were free to go."

Safiya gave a thin smile.

"That's a fair policy in a land consumed by Chaos. I can hardly blame you, I suppose. I am called Safiya, a name given me by your prophet, as I had long abandoned mine. He would not simply call as I was and insisted I have a name.

Like my predecessor, I… buried my home beneath the Chaos Flame. I had long been in self-imposed exile and imprisonment when Lex found me. He dragged me into his foolish quest to save the ruined kingdom of Drangleic and return home, and so here I am. He could not accompany me, as I am now, strictly speaking, participating in his memories."

"His memories? I do not feel like an illusion."

"The technique a complicated one. It would seem that I follow the path of his memory, but in truth, I am projected into that time as real as any phantom."

"I see. Yet I do not understand. Why did he not simply return by way of spell?"

"By spell? What spell could have returned him? He gathered all the sorcerers in Drangleic to develop the unstable portal which sent me here."

Jeremiah looked at her intensely. By now, a great number of spider golems had come to congregate on the walls, and a handful of Capra golems stood behind him.

"I don't believe you are lying. And he's no good at it. It must be that, then. He had mentioned that he forgot the events directly leading to his appearance in Lordran. The transfer must have wiped his memory of the days or hours leading to his departure."

He released his whips, the magma one falling to the floor as rubble. He hung the vine whip at his waist and extended a hand to help the Sinner rise.

"Well, let's not waste any more time. Poor Laag has burned a hole in the floor pacing while waiting to hear back from Lex." He grinned. "Not that her pride would let her admit it. I am Jeremiah, consort to the old Witch herself. Well, only the prince is my child by blood, but that's a miracle in itself."

It dawned on Safiya at last. The reason why she felt uncomfortable around the man. Her inherited soul was reacting to its old flame. She resolved to put the invasive emotions to rest, lest she be called 'mother-in-law' twice as frequently. Still, she found her one eye constantly drifting to the former consort's glistening abs.

They started down the hall again, this time taking a few odd turns and ascending some stairs. The throneroom was actually near the top of the pyramid. Jeremiah took a quick bow on entering. The Chaos Queen wore an elaborate crown of spikes and little else, her modesty preserved by wreaths of mad flame. A hideous spider with countless eyes and the muzzle of a lion was affixed to her hips where legs ought have been.

She was reading a map of the convoluted palace and trying to plan responses for the intrusion. The Second Princess hovered nearby, while her knight, murderous Kirk, stood ready to fight. The Queen and knight tensed when they saw the unknown, tattooed and tattered figure enter behind the old widower, but he quickly spoke up.

"Queen Laag, a visitor from that land of Drangleic we've heard so much about. She has news about your missing beloved."

"Father, how many times must I remind you that my marriage is one of political convenience. There could be no greater spouse than the Chosen of the gods. Do not allow a doddering old fool mislead you, stranger."

"Your Majesty," Safiya said, bowing low in preparation for what she was about to say, "it is rare to find a moment when your husband isn't talking about how much he wants to get back in bed with you. I hardly think _that_ union is political."

Quelaag clenched her fists so tightly that her boiling blood dripped and melted through the floor, her razor-sharp nails digging ever deeper into her palms.

" _I will kill him._ Where is he?"

"He believes he is trapped in Drangleic and gathered all the sorcerers in Drangleic to develop the technique which sent me here. He cannot himself use it, as it requires his memories to locate this place. If you would grant me some token to represent this meeting, I could return with it and allow him the freedom to utilize this means of transmission."

"No. That won't do at all. If you can take a token with you, is there any clear limit to its size?"

"I am not aware of any such limitation. Indeed, Lex smuggled the deceased King of Drangleic into the present time."

"Oh, wonderful. Then I don't have to deal with any objections about the risk."

"Pardon? The risk of-?"

"I will be coming with you."

"I'm sorry, but I am afraid I don't know how that would be performed. Lex had used a form of the Homeward spell to accomplish the-"

"I'm sure it's nothing complicated. Father, inform Lara that she is in charge while I am away. Inform Lana that I am fine, and she can cease sounding the alarm every time someone arrives unexpectedly."

Quelaag approached, and she and Safiya looked at one another for a few seconds. It was the first time since she had left Eleum Loyce that Safiya had met someone who shared her size. Certainly, Vendrick and company were even larger than she was, but this felt different. As the spider leaned down, they shared the same eye level.

"I suppose you must be long tired of being called grandma."

"Mother-in-law, it was."

"Good. He had a ridiculous song about grandmothers which confused everyone. We do not yet have children, yet I received numerous congratulations for _laying eggs_. Do not make spider jokes about me, and I won't relegate you to living in Mother's shadow."

Safiya narrowed her eye.

"I see now why Lex seemed so confident in leaving decisions of governing to you. You are quite brusque. The difference in behavior betwixt the two of you would make for a potent contrast. Carrot and stick, no?"

"No. He would leave governance to me because it is my duty. A consort can at best advise his monarch. He _has_ been given other roles and fulfills them as such."

"Honestly, now I cannot understand how he has the nerve to complain about _my_ disciplining him when his wife is such a shrew."

"Why you-!"

Quelaag took a deep breath.

"So that's how I've seemed. It can be hard to get an honest opinion out of my sisters. You are not Mother by any stretch of the imagination. She gave awful advice. Still, I would be pleased if you would lend your experience to this court in her stead."

Safiya nodded.

"It would be my pleasure. My King already is already considering an offer of vassalage from your husband."

"Then we have much to discuss. Let us take a moment before we return to reclaim my wayward consort."


	27. A shining new era is tiptoeing nearer

The Dark rippled lazily like the surface of a bog. After a moment, the murk cleared, and the Lost Sinner surged to the surface like a buoy. She stood atop the inky liquid that filled the Lordvessel for a moment, eye closed. When she snapped to awareness, she quickly stepped out of the way.

"Did the attempt succeed?"

Before the confused sorcerers could respond, the Dark began to bubble and pop. A moment later, and it had begun to boil, the carefully filled basin overflowing as the inky substance expanded from heat. The surface of the Dark caught fire like the tars of Black Gulch, filling the laboratory with the smell of burning corpses.

"Uh, guys, gimme a hand?"

Lex had been suspended above the altar by a chain around his ankles. The time limit for using the portal was however long he could go without the blood rushing to his head killing him. Now, he'd bent himself upright and was fumbling to get the chains off before whatever had taken control of the gate emerged.

A broken razor of chitin emerged from the depths of the pool, burning with fury. Black nails dug into the rim of the Lordvessel.

"Lex! You have a great deal of explaining to do!"

"Uh oh. Quick! Somebody get me out of here before she takes me to couple's counseling!"

The old, rusty iron chains held fast. The Dark surged out, pouring over the ritual bindings. Grandahl and the Straids quickly raised barriers with the white glow of humanity in order to keep the toxic sludge from spreading. With a gout of black flame, the humanoid torso of the Chaos Queen emerged from the tar.

"You idiot! How much of your memory did you lose?"

"My memory?"

"You were the one who said it would be a good idea to go to the 'canon' future in order to advance our knowledge of magic and procure the Crowns of immortality! _More importantly,_ even if you thought you were stranded, how could you not contact me? The rings work even across time, you idiot!"

"Why didn't you try calling me?"

"I…"

"Someone's a tsundere! Tsk tsk. Calling me a baka."

"You listen-!"

She tried to grab hold of him, but he swung out of her reach. The Queen grunted rather un-royally and tried to pull herself further out of the portal. Unfortunately, there was simply no way that her spider half was going to fit through the aperture of the Lordvessel.

"Ha! Your butt's too big! It's okay. I like big butts, and I cannot lie."

"No! You are not starting that again!"

"Okay, fine. Say, Laag, while you're stuck there, can you have someone throw Manus' pendant through the portal? We're trying to keep the First Flame lit over here, and since this is a different timeline, that means our Izalith isn't tapping the humanity in Oolacile. We can just cheat and reuse the same power source."

"That is the first thing you have to say to me?"

Still swinging on the chain, Lex rolled his hips so that he nearly crashed into her.

"Well, I know that you love to get right to business, but if you insist… Cue the rain! I'm going Tobey Maguire!"

Still upside-down, he gently pulled himself forward before settling into a deep kiss. Quelaag didn't let go of her anger but channeled it into the kiss, pushing him back. After several seconds, she bit his lip sharply and pulled back.

"Ow, god. Ow."

Lex dabbed at his lip rather pathetically. Quelaag dipped some in the Lordvessel, reaching down into the tar. When she rose again, she had Manus' pendant of stone and vine.

"Wait, how?"

"Remember that you can also use the ring, dear."

" _Hello, brother,_ " the Fair Lady said telepathically.

"Oh, hi, Laav. Wow, this is awkward. Wait, why didn't the ring work at first, then?"

"Feeble cursed one! The answer is obvious – whatever magic you are using has been restored while the connection is open! It will no doubt be broken once more when it closes."

Lex looked at his wife rather pointedly.

"Oh, 'the ring works across time, idiot,' was it? I'm getting payback for this later. We need to connect the bonfire systems, then. That should provide a constant link. And then we'd have two First Flames working in tandem. Per Engel's Law, that would give us an overall boost. Though that's probably just BS because economics and magical fire don't have anything to do with one another."

He took the pendant and tossed it to Grandahl.

"Yo, that's the prized possession of the Father of the Abyss. You can go back to the time of his death by using it as the focus. Though you also risk having him reach out for it through time."

"Something so precious…" Grandahl whispered.

"Right, so somebody go pester Raime for a coiled sword."

As he was giving orders, he was attempting to saw through the chains with Quelaag's Furysword. She scowled and made a quick cutting motion with her hand. A quick swipe did indeed cut through them at once, the broken links plopping into the tar. The demon caught him as he fell, giving him a quick but brutal squeeze before setting him upright on the edge of the Lordvessel.

"Anyway, I'll go ahead and get things finished up here, Laag. You've got lots of new subjects."

"Oh, you know just what a girl wants."

"Right, so ladies and gentlemen and evil lizard ghost: presenting Her Majesty, the Queen of Izalith and Lord of Life, your future ruler, Quelaag."

She waved her sword theatrically. Rosabeth bowed, but none of the others looked away from their work.

"Why must sorcerers always be like this?" Quelaag sighed.

That said, Vendrick did take a knee in spite of Nashandra trying to stop him.

"Your Majesty, I owe a great deal to your husband. I look forward to working with you in restoring this wasted land. Please, take these as a sign of Drangleic's allegiance… and that my fellows and myself – the Four Kings, as you would know us."

He had kept the Lost Crowns in a leather bag on his belt, but now he drew the artifacts and presented them to the Demon Queen. By now, his own Queen had given up on trying to stop him and stood apart with her arms crossed.

"Izalith accepts this token, Vendrick of Drangleic. The Lord of Sunlight once granted you a soul for your wisdom. It is good to see that wisdom has returned. I look forward to what it can bring my empire."

She took the Crowns and lowered them toward the tar. Hideous, broken, and double-jointed spider's legs reached up to take them.

"I look forward to meeting you all again soon. For now, I will leave my consort with the task of establishing a gateway large enough to march my forces through."

"Honey, we don't really have forces. Maybe a black ops team."

"If you must be pedantic, then fine. Large enough for my brother to pass. Surely, he's worth a regiment at least."

Of course, there could only be one suitable location.

* * *

 _Oh, the Fire is slowly dyin'_

 _And my dear, we're still goodbye-in'_

 _But as long as you'd love me so_

 _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_

Eleum Loyce had been constructed as a last, desperate hold against the Chaos which had sprung up in the utmost north. With the last vestiges of the seedless, barren Bed cast into the deepest caverns beneath the earth, it had seemed the city's purpose had ended. Only now, the fearless Fume Knight, master of the iron forges of Brume, had dredged it up again. The Ivory King, the Silent Oracle, and the Lost Sinner – the last survivors of the corruption – looked on grimly while the mad Royal Sorcerer Navlaan churned the magma. Even in chains, he was dangerous, and none of the three would dare risk an outbreak.

Several iterations of the black sorcerer Straid, each with a different beard style, stood at the ready to contain anything that the cancerous well of Life might produce. The remainder of the sorcerers worked at performing final checks on the mystical calculations which would link two worlds. The techniques used in the development of the small-scale portal had been upscaled through the use of Seath's crystals. The single, hooked obelisk cast strange shadows between the cold winter sun streaming through the stained glass windows of the cathedral and the churning magma below.

"Young Monarch, you may begin when ready," Grandahl said solemnly.

The Chaos Lord made a single heartful strum on his guitar. A flurry of quick strokes followed. Three rising strokes, then another flurry. The pattern repeated itself three times, an arcane number.

 _Guess who just got back today?_

 _Them wild-eyed boys that had been away._

The mad runes of Chaos shone across the archway as a heat haze blurred the lines between one world and the next. Flares shot wildly from the pit below. The inhabitants of Majula, officially pledged to the Empire of Izalith by Mayor Saulden, had all gathered at a safe distance. The Rat King and a vanguard had ventured from their allied underground kingdom to witness the moment Izalith grew from a city-state to the beginnings of a wide-spanning empire. Shulva, Heide, Alken, Venn, Loyce, _Drangleic_ : the last remnants of the kingdoms which had once stood on this spot had all sworn alliance to ancient Izalith.

 _The boys are back in town!_

They were all charmed when they first saw her, the Demon Queen, now their ruler or ally. She emerged from shimmering air first, walking over the pit on a bridge of flame. She was dressed for once, wearing a thin gown of spider's silk blackened with soot and hemmed with gold. Only, as she came further into view, they saw her monstrous form.

 _The boys are back in town!_

Following after her was another demon, all in white and with six burning wings. A pair of witches followed, and a knight bound in thorns, and a pair of pyromancers with mad gleams in their eyes, and a skeleton with a beard. After a moment's pause, a hideous mass of lava with eyes, legs, and tentacles emerged. Cale the Cartographer fainted.

 _I said, the boys are back in town!_

The Fume Knight and the Baneful Queen had learned a fondness of industry from the Old Iron King. They had learned how to build crude works of machinery and to operate the grand forges. Now, they looked on as chattering lunatic in a cage commanded a fleet of misshapen golems that were somehow infinitely more sophisticated than anything the old King had produced. A golem-knight with wings of Black Iron stood proudly, marching with a grace and power that belittled even the Smelter Demons.

 _The boys are back in town!_

The Blue Sentinels had come to gather intelligence as much as anything else. They had maintained their independence for centuries after the fall of Heide as a nation. Now, it had seemed there was no choice but to join in the growing alliance. Only, the men of faith were shocked to see how very real their gods were. The Dark Sun led the Four Knights after the demons, seemingly without care. It was all the captain Targray could do to hold the Old Dragonslayer from leaping down to greet the inspiration for his order.

 _I said, the boys are back in town!_

The chief Gravekeeper, Agdayne, had journeyed far from the Undead Crypt to bear witness to the coming of Life's rulers. Only, he beheld Death following them. The First of the Dead and his killing miasma darkened even the hateful light of Chaos as he oozed out from the portal. At his side was his bride, unliving and undying, surrounded by countless dead children, sacrificed to the gods.

 _The boys are back in town!_

After such prestigious procession, one would hardly think to examine the mere mortals following. Yet for Melfian sorcerers, nothing could be more amazing than to see the legendary Big Hat stride forth, flanked by two of the ancient Sealers.

 _The boys are back in town!_

Even Straid took pause as a stone dragon somehow forced its way through the gate. Magerold nearly shrieked in ecstasy.

 _The boys are back in town!_

The hexers knew they would not find their Lord passing through that gate, but it was enough to see it work. To see the Wolf Knight who had fallen. To see the way the shadows bent about the warped flame and to see the light wither in the presence of the Gravelord.

 _The boys are back in town again._

 _Been hangin' down at Nito's._

* * *

Lex stood on a ledge which had formed as vines wrapped around a broken branch of the great tree and begun to collect debris falling from above. The whole collection of plant fiber, dead bugs, and dirt was now packed tightly enough that it practically felt like solid ground. It was here that a pair of talking crow children sat in a comfortable nest. No sign of the parent birds could be found, but the nest was overflowing with random junk which had been used in its construction.

"You! You! Give us smooth!"

"Yes! You! Give us silky!"

There was no telling how long they had pestered lost Undead for items of that nebulous description. They seemed to be fond of stones of various types and were willing to trade quite rare items for fossils which may have been remnants of ancient dragons. The Chosen Undead scratched his chin.

" _Hey, Laav._ "

" _Hello, brother. What is it that you need?_ "

" _Now, what was it that you'd said you really admired about Quelaag's appearance?_ "

" _Oh, sister has always cared deeply about her appearance. But when I was lost in my fever dreams, dying of the blight, I longed to see her beautiful, silky face just one more time._ "

" _Right, that's what I thought. Thanks._ "

He paused to consider the consequences – but not too long.

" _Hey, Laag, could you come over to the Things Betwixt bonfire? There's something I need your help with._ "


End file.
